The Council
by BohemianMoose
Summary: "What exactly do you think the knights told them?" "That the reason behind your hasty exit from the ball was not in fact as a result of a psychotic episode, but that of a young man merely in love?" I joked. "It had to be something that they would deem believable, Ella," he said chuckling. A continuation of the beloved tale, starting immediately where the book left off.
1. A Very Hattie Tantrum

**DISCLAIMER: None of this belongs to me. Characters, names, setting all belong to the fabulous Gail Carson Levine. Any recognizable phrases are not mine either. **

"_Now it was over. Ended forever. I was made anew. Ella. Just Ella. Not Ella, the slave. Not a scullery maid. Not Lela. Not Eleanor. Ella. Myself unto myself. One. Me._

_I tore off the rag that covered my hair. Then I curtsied to Char. _

'_When you asked for my hand a few minutes ago, I was still too young to marry.' I looked up at him and saw a smile start. 'I'm older now, so much older that not only can I marry, but I can beg you to marry me.' I knelt and took his hand._

_He didn't let me kneel before him. He pulled me up and kissed me again. I took that to signify his consent."_

_Gail Carson Levine, Ella Enchanted_

I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him like an anchor. He had freed me, saved me from Lucinda's horrid curse. Without him I would have no reason to continue to live. And for that I was forever in his debt.

He stroked my cheek, and his other hand snaked around my waist. "Ella," he murmured against my lips, so softly that only I could hear.

"ELLA!" This time, a shout of fury emerged from Hattie's lips. We broke apart, but Char held on to me, keeping me close. Her wig was askew; her face was twisted in rage. She stomped her feet in a very childish manner.

"Stop it! Get _away _from him!" She shrilled. Her last words echoed around the hall, leaving her breathless and heaving. Servants who had begun to drift away stopped in their tracks, looking at their mistress with wide-eyed fear. Char's softly whistling knights froze, surprised that a lady would behave in such a way. Mum Olga looked slightly embarrassed at her daughter's actions.

"Hattie, my sweet," she started, but then immediately stopped herself, preferring not to interfere.

"No." I whispered, angry. I'd had enough of it. I was done being bossed around; I was done waiting on her like a lowly peasant. I was finished with it all. With this life, this abuse, this _nightmare_.

Ignoring Char's protests, I gently removed his hands from me, and took a step towards Hattie.

"Ha-_ha!_" Hattie sneered in triumph, thinking herself successful. "You heard me Ella, go to your room this instant, and do _not_ return."

"No." I repeated more firmly, taking another step closer. "Did you not hear me moments ago, or is your skull as thick as it appears? I shall _not_ go to my room, Hattie. I shall _not _wait hand and foot on you any longer, and I shall most definitely _not_ follow any more commands from you." Saying this made me feel stronger, prouder, and taller, like I could reach out and snatch Hattie's wig right off of her head.

I would throw it to the ground, and grind it under my heel with such ferocity that the mud tracks left in the hall would be forever encased in the shining tresses.

Her eyes widened in shock, and in an instant she had smacked me across the face. I felt the sharp sting of her nails digging into my cheek. "Stupid little wench!" she shrieked, "How _dare_ you!"

I smirked at her.

Despite the pain, I watched with satisfaction as Hattie's temper blew past boiling point. Before my eyes, she transformed from a rabbit toothed stepsister to a true monster. An angry red blush started from the apples of her cheeks and consumed her face, leaving it the colour of an over-ripe tomato. Yet it didn't stop there. It traveled down her neck, leaving veins pulsing, and due to her many corsets, her bulging bosom, where it clashed horribly with the bright orange of her gown.

I could almost see her swell up; I worried her seams would not take it. She clenched her fists together. I hoped her nails would pierce her palms the way they did my skin.

"WHY," she screeched louder than ever as she lunged for me, "YOU DESPICABLE-" I jumped back before she could get her claws on me. At that moment Mum Olga decided she had best save her daughter from losing the little dignity she had left.

"Hattie!" Mum Olga pulled her back, restraining her. "Whatever do you think you're doing?"

Hattie struggled, pulling against her mother's iron grip. "Stop it mother! Let me go! _She must be punished!_" She shook her head in frenzy, and her wig fell to the floor.

I internally cheered.

At the sight, she clutched her shiny scalp with chubby fingers, and gave a great wail of despair.

I could hear little nervous titters and giggles from the remaining onlookers. Only Nancy, the serving maid dared laugh out loud.

"Hattie! Stop this at once! Can you not see you're embarrassing yourself?" Mum Olga hissed, picking up Hattie's wig up from the stone.

I saw my chance to leave the scene. With everyone distracted, no one would take notice.

"Come." I said to Char, and pulled him along to the kitchen. He followed me silently, and his hand found my waist again, tracing soothing circles on the side of my stomach with his thumb.

I pulled Char far enough along a dark corridor so that we could neither hear nor see the scene, and headed for the kitchen.

"Ella, wait." Char stopped me suddenly, pulling me under a nearby wall torch that provided adequate light.

He didn't say a word, but held my face as he caressed my cheeks with his thumbs, taking care not touch the scratches Hattie had made. My eyes met his warm ones; they were shining with something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Did they do this always?" He whispered, the pain evident in his voice.

I looked down, breaking his gaze. "I-" I stopped myself. I couldn't. I couldn't tell him just yet. He'd been on the receiving end of pain from me for far too long.

"Ella." he cupped his hand under my chin, bringing my face up so I couldn't hide. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me that this isn't true."

"Wh-what isn't true?" I closed my eyes; I couldn't bear the look in his. It was filled with self-hate, and I would not allow Char to hate himself. Not after all of this.

"Tell me that I didn't fall for that rubbish trick. Tell me that I never hated you. Tell me that for six months I did not think only about how you'd deceived me, played with my heartstrings, while you were being succumbed to this-this _torture_. Tell me that I am not the biggest fool Kyrria has ever seen!" His voice grew into a shout.

I couldn't tell him, I _wouldn't_ hurt him any longer, but I couldn't lie to him again. I'd done enough of that recently.

"Char, don't be upset with yourself. You had every right under the sky to hate me. I-_I_ wrote that letter, not Hattie."

He drew a sharp intake of breath."I-" _CRASH._ The sound of a thousand suits of armor falling apart reached us from the front hall.

"NO! I _will not let that infuriating tart get away with this!_ She will LEAVE HIM! AND I SHALL BE QUEEN!_" _I wondered what she had broken to create such a disturbance. I could picture it in my head: pounding her fists on to the floor, kicking and screaming while an army of servants attempted to calm their deranged mistress. On any other day it would have been purely comical.

Char stiffened in anger, his hands tightening on my face. I hissed in pain; he had pressed upon my scratches. The blazing fury evaporated from his eyes immediately, and for a moment he looked more in distress than I.

"Mandy can help." I rushed. I continued my way down the corridor; he followed me numbly.

Mandy rushed to her cabinet as soon as she saw us. "Seat her on the stool Highness, if you please."

Char nodded stiffly. He took me and gently seated me on the familiar low stool next to the stove.

He stared at me intently as Mandy dabbed away some of the blood on my face with a wet cloth.

"That vile, nasty excuse for a human being…." she muttered under her breath as she used ointment to help the rapid swelling, "You had best tell him the entire truth Lady, before things get far too complicated." She said louder.

I nodded. But I yearned for privacy. As much as I loved Mandy, I knew Char wasn't nearly as comfortable with her as was I.

Mandy seemed to notice this. "I'll be in your room, sweet." With a final sweep of her magic, she kissed my cheek and left.

Char was staring at a fixed point above my head, his jaw trembling. "You sent that letter," he whispered.

"Yes." I replied just as quietly.

"You wanted me to hate you."

"Yes." I repeated.

"But you say you love me."

"I do."

He took my hand with his trembling one. "I don't understand," he said, not looking at me, "Why would you send that letter? Why, if you love me?"

"Char," I said, "You have to believe me. I sent it _because_ I love you."

"I do. I really, truly do. I'm just…so confused." He was speaking so softly, I almost felt his words rather than heard them.

"Understandable." I took a deep breath. "When I got your last letter, you have no idea how _happy_ I was. I hadn't felt that way in the longest time, and reading that-I just…it made me feel like the luckiest maiden alive." I felt a small smile slowly creeping its way unto my face as I fingered a lock of his tawny curls.

Char gave me a small smile. When he didn't say anything, I took it as a sign to continue.

"But- like I said before, I was under a curse." I looked down, playing with the tattered remains of my hemline, "When I was born, Lucinda, a fairy-the same fairy you saw at my Father's wedding- gave me a gift, a gift of obedience. Naturally, the fool refused to admit that it was really a horrid enchantment. And, in a simple form, I had to obey any direct order."

"Any order? All because of a foolish fairy?" He breathed, tightening his hold on my hand.

"Any. I tried my whole life to break it. I thought that I could do it by refusing simple commands. But I could never do it. So then I realized I had to find Lucinda herself and make her remove it."

"The giants' wedding," he said, realization decorating his deep voice, "That's why you went. My Father says hardly a wedding or a birth takes place without a fairy present."

"Yes."

"I _knew_ you had reasons to risk your life other than just to see a wedding." He grinned at me.

I smiled back.

But his grin promptly faded. "But the fairy didn't remove the curse."

I shook my head "But- _that's_ why I wrote that letter. I really am sorry. I can't imagine how much pain you went through to read that. I can only think that it was a thousand times greater than what I went through to write it, to send it. And yet, I had to.

"Because I knew that as long as I was still under the curse, I couldn't be your wife, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much I loved you. The danger you would be put in if you married a cursed woman Char, the _danger!_"

"You could have told me." He whispered.

I smiled bitterly. "My mother once ordered me to never tell anyone about the curse. And even if I could have told you, what could you have done? We wouldn't have been able to hide it forever; after all, you and I can both admit that no matter how hard you try, there will always be prying eyes in court, looking for signs of weaknesses in the monarchs, ready to pounce at any moment.

"And if someone were to found out, I could've been forced to pass on secrets, secrets that would ruin everything. I could be forced to even _kill_ you, and it pains me so that I can think of ten different ways to end your life at this moment. Don't you see, Char? If I'd said what I'd truly wanted to in that letter, I would've have ruined both you and the country! And if it meant having to break both my heart and yours to save _you_ and the land, then so be it."

I paused, waiting for his response.

Nothing.

Then, he gently put his hands on my cheeks, holding my face. His bright blue irises were glassed over, darkening them a shade. "You-you would do that? Sacrifice your own happiness to save both me and the kingdom?" he choked, a single tear running down his cheek as his eyes searched mine for answers.

I wiped away his tear with my thumb as I nodded wordlessly.

"Oh, _Ella." _He kissed me fiercely, desperately, longingly. As if I were oxygen and he a drowning man. He tangled his fingers in my hair, pulled me off of my stool and onto his lap as he sank to the floor. My hands wound their way around his neck as he moved from my lips to my ear. "You selfless, brave creature, you make me hate myself." He said, breathing hard.

I pulled back. "Don't hate yourself Char." I traced the contours of his handsome face with the back of my hand.

He shook his head. "For the past six months, I thought you didn't love me, and I cursed at the world, for making me fall in love in the first place. Then I find you, and I assume it was a trick of Hattie. But then you tell me it was you all along. And now, to realize that you did it all solely because you loved me; it makes me feel like I'm the most selfish man in this world, because I never had a right to be angry with you. If anything, you should be angry with me. I wouldn't mind if you never forgave me, for I deserve it."

"No," I whispered, touching my forehead to his. "There is nothing to forgive. It was my intention to make you hate me, forget me, so that even if I was never able to break the curse, you would be able to move on."

A smile grew on his face. "And yet you're here now. There is no _need _for me to move on." He swooped down to kiss me again, gently this time, softly, as if we had all the time left in the world to enjoy each other's company.

"I have you to thank for that." I tapped his freckled nose lightly as I settled into his lap, leaning back against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around me. "How so?"

"You ordered me to marry you." I said simply, tracing the veins on the inside of his wrist.

"I'd thought you didn't have to follow orders anymore." He wrinkled his nose, looking adorably confused.

I nodded. "My ultimate refusal; that was what broke my curse. If you had never ordered me to marry you, I would've never felt the need to disobey an order, and we would not have been here."

"Hmm," he murmured, tapping his chin in mock consideration. "Well, in that case, you're very welcome." He joked, fingering my hair.

I rolled my eyes playfully as I turned around to kiss his cheek. He sighed happily as I rested my head on his shoulder, fingering the lapel of his doublet.

"Ella?"

"Mmmmm?"

"You know you always manage to surprise me," he said to me, playing with my hair.

"How so?"

"Being cursed with obedience was the last thing I'd ever thought you'd be." He laughed lightly.

"It was the first, actually."

"And then you appear at the balls dress as Lela. I should have realized the similarity between the two of you couldn't have been a coincidence." His laughter got louder. "And here I thought it was your clever Hattie who schemed the whole thing," he gasped between chuckles.

"Hattie's not clever," I bolted up, mildly insulted.

He grinned at me, twiddling his thumbs, "I'm only playing with you, heart." His eyes sparkled with the laughter I loved.

I narrowed my eyes, but smiled at him anyways.

I looked down and took one of his hands into mine, marveling at the large, square shape. How I'd missed those hands.

"Ella?" he repeated, bending down so that his lips were almost pressed against my ear.

"Yes?" I traced a line from his thumb to his wrist to his pinkie and back again with my forefinger.

"Come with me to the castle, we have plenty of extra rooms."

"Well Char, I'd really hate for you to force me to leave my loving stepfamily behind-"

"-Really, Ella-"

"-And I can't say that I believe that it's very gentlemanly of you to do so because-"

I stopped. He wasn't listening. He was laughing again.

"Char?" I asked when his fits faded, my face close to his.

"Yes?" a flash of fire danced around his irises.

"Truly?" my lips brushed the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I can't have you stay here with these monsters, can I? What kind of a man would I be?" he asked softly, traveling the line of my nose with his.

"A man with no sense of chivalry." I traced his jaw and neck, dipping my fingers beneath his collar.

"You would have to kill me," he played along, pressing his large hand to the small of my back, so that I was pressed flush against his body

"Immediately and without hesitation." I whispered with mock seriousness.

His eyes bore into mine, and the tension was great.

We stared at each other for a second, a minute, an hour, I couldn't tell.

Then he kissed me.

My hands immediately buried themselves in his hair and he cupped my cheek in his hand, pulling me even closer, if that was still a possibility.

I tugged on his bottom lip and my fingers played with the baby curls at the nape of his neck, teasing the soft skin there.

One of us moaned, but I wouldn't be able to tell who if asked.

I broke away, gasping, but his lips didn't leave my skin.

"I know I can't order you to do anything any longer," he said between kisses along my jaw, "But will you come with me?"

I smiled at him teasingly, "You'll realize how drastically horrible I am and will be sick of me within the week." I warned him.

"Never," he said, standing and pulling me up with him, "If I do, then that would mean that there is something drastically wrong with _me_."

He really had an answer to everything I could come up with. I imagined humourous battles of wit at the castle in the future.

"Well then, by all means, escort me to your castle my dashing prince." I fluttered my eyelashes obnoxiously, mocking Hattie.

He laughed lightly. "Not castle my dear, _humble home." _He corrected.

"Humble home then."

"Highness," Sir Bertram appeared in the hallway, "We had best hurry, the King and Queen will be worried. You never did tell them where you were running off to."

"Yes," his attention snapped to the knight, "Collect the others, Sir Bert. We'll leave as soon as the Lady Ella is ready."

Sir Bert nodded with a small smile, recognizing me as the ogre tamer.

Char kissed my cheek. "Go," he murmured against my ear. "But don't be too long, my knights aren't the most patient lot."

I was startled. So soon? What about Mandy? Nancy?

Char read my thoughts. "We'll collect Mandy in the morning. Tell her to be ready at first light. But for now, my priority is cleaning up the mess of a ball I made." He said matter-of-a-factly, looking amused at his own antics.

I nodded, and hurried to my room as soon as Char left with Sir Bert, comparing the effectiveness of a stallion to a mare in an ogre raid.

"Mandy! Mandy?" I shouted as soon as I stepped into the doorway.

She was standing at the window, her back to me. She turned around at my voice. "Oh, hello Lady." Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy.

"What's the matter?" I ran into her arms when I realized she had been crying.

"Oh, Lady," she soothed, brushing my hair, "Nothing's the matter. I'm only so happy for you. I always get sentimental at times like these."

I looked at her. "Mandy, I'm going to go with Char to the castle. He said he won't let me stay under the same roof as Hattie for another minute, and wants me to stay with him until we get married." I whispered, smiling.

"Then what are you standing here for?" She pushed me towards my wardrobe. "Hurry, put on your last ball gown, the King won't want to see you in that."

"But, all this soot, the gown will surely get filthy!"

"What soot?" She smirked.

I looked down. My hands and face were clean again, no trace of the filth left. I subconsciously sniffed myself. Except for the stink of my current gown, I smelt fresh again.

"Oh," I breathed. This was the biggest magic I had ever seen Mandy do. I wondered if it went against her morals.

I quickly donned the same white dress, and slipped on my other slipper. But I left the tiara and necklace off, for I had something else in mind. I picked up my carpetbag, which was already packed, and slung the strap over my shoulder.

"Hurry." Mandy said, holding out the necklace and tiara, expecting me to take them.

I shook my head. "I'm going to get Mother's necklace back from Hattie."

A smile broke out on her face. "At least take these with you, Ella. You might need them."

I paused, but reluctantly took them anyways, and stuffed them into my bag.

I rushed to her for one last hug. "Good luck, my sweet." She squeezed me tight as another tear leaked out of her eye.

I froze. She thought I was going to leave her here. "Mandy, we'll send for you in the morning, after we clean up this mess." I said, my voice muffled by her gown.

"Oh, sweet. You needn't worry about me. I'm only a cook."

"No." I shook my head, "You're coming with us. You're my fairy godmother Mandy, you're _supposed_ to stay with me."

"Alright, you little mink." She kissed my cheek. "Go now."

I took one last look at her before running out of the room.

I paused in front of Hattie's chambers, and then ran in without checking to see who might see me.

Her dressing table was covered in the usual face paints, scented oils, and various jewels.

I paid little attention to any of it. Instead, my eyes zoomed in on a hint of gnomic pearls peaking out under a jeweled container of face paint and several extravagantly hideous brooches.

I pulled Mother's beautiful necklace out from under the heap, sending the brooches, some rings and the face paint crashing to the floor, where the box split and covered the rug with Hattie's white face powder.

I should have been more careful, but I couldn't bring myself to waste any nimbleness on the belongings of such a person as Hattie.

I also had no intention for my intrusion to remain secret.

I could only hope to dream the look on Hattie's face when she discovered that I countermanded every order that she had ever bestowed upon me.

I grinned.

I gently fingered the silver threads of Mother's necklace, smiling at the beloved jewel. Despite having being left untouched except for the chilly air, the tiny pearls still felt warm to the touch, as if Mother's spirit had remained in them somehow.

I did the clasp around my neck, and stole a peek in Hattie's mirror.

Mandy was right. I had grown into it.

Looking down at it, I made my way out of Hattie's chambers, down the hall, and almost flew down the staircase.

I ran to the front hall, where Char was conversing with Sir Stephan.

Hattie stood in the corner, arms crossed, fuming.

When Char saw me, he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw that I wasn't looking at him. Instead, I paused on the bottom step, looking at Hattie with an even gaze.

I approached her cautiously, in case she decided to attack again.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

I stopped a few feet away from her, quite ready to bid farewell to the worst chapter of my life. I wouldn't mourn if I never saw her again.

I thought of words that I might say, but she started open her mouth first.

"I never understood why you hated me, Ella. I never mistreated you; never a harsh word, never a scolding." She hissed, eyes blazing.

"If turning me into a scullery maid under my father's nose is not considered mistreatment Hattie, then I'd hate to see your version of abuse." I said coldly, before turning around.

I stopped mid-step to take one look at my stepsister, hopefully for the last time. "You never gave me a reason to like you Hattie." I said in parting as I made my way to Char.

Sir Stephan breathed a sigh of relief. "I worried you would bring three trunks with you. I didn't think the horses could take it." He wiped imaginary sweat from his brow.

I shrugged ruefully. "I don't have many things that I find valuable."

"Most maidens would die in a house fire, running after their valuables. But you, ogre tamer, you would be the first one out if the castle were to catch flame."

I couldn't help but laugh at his humor.

Char joined in. "Stephan, you worry me. Always thinking of the worst possible situation, no?" He took my hand, leading us both outside the front doors.

"Why not? You are always quite the optimist; one of us has to take precautions."

"It wouldn't hurt to look on the bright side of things for a change." Char took the reins of a magnificently white stallion, leading him towards me. "Go on, try it."

"Alright, let me think for a moment." Stephan tapped his chin, "Very well. I've got one. I'm glad that none of my daughters are old enough to worry about gowns and face paint, and in return leaving me penniless."

Char gave a shout of laughter that echoed in the night. "Good."

"How old are your daughters?" I asked curiously.

"Twelve, eleven, nine, and six."

I smiled. "You sir, will surely be penniless come five years time."

He cringed. "That is exactly the sort of nightmare that plagues my dreams." He then promptly launched into a story about in which in a dream, his daughters sent him all over Frell to buy any valuable trinket that eyes could fall upon.

I tuned him out as I turned to Char, who was quietly talking to his horse. "Remember the girl I told you about? Ella? We're going to take her to meet Mother and Father. I'm going to marry her soon, you know." He murmured.

The horse nudged his neck lovingly; I doubted he understood anything he said.

He turned to me. "Ella, come." He smiled, holding out his hand.

I took it, but before he set me on the horse, I took one last look at the manor.

I didn't understand why I was feeling sentimental. I hated that house, and it's people. I had never belonged.

Char seemed to know what I was thinking, and he pulled me into his arms. "I know," he whispered, "But the only place you belong now is with me."

And he was right.

This is where I belonged.

Right there in his arms.

**A/N: This is originally a one-shot. But, I may continue it if I am convinced. Tell me what you think!**


	2. Sir Stephan the Knight

**DISCLAIMER: None of this is mine. It's all Gail Carson Levine's. Please don't sue. **

**A/N: Right, well, all you lovely people managed to convince me. The reason I originally didn't want to continue this was because I can't stand it when stories don't have a plot and don't go anywhere. But, a massive plot bunny jumped into my head the other week and threatened to murder my family if I didn't write it down. And so I wrote the first chapter, and realized it was ridiculously long before I split it up into a few decent sized chapters. So, more to come. Enjoy. **

After a long moment, Char pulled back just enough to plant a soft kiss on my forehead.

"We had best get going," he said.

I nodded, tearing my eyes away from Mum Olga's manor to a few knights who were in the midst of an argument.

I watched them; curious to see how their behavior changed when they thought a woman wasn't watching.

"You dolt," one was saying to a taller fellow, "you're just going to have to quit slashing the sacks with your pretty little sword at every chance you've got. We can't repair them fast enough, and we need them as our targets."

"Don't act like you're ever going to find a use for the sorry combination of string and wood you call a weapon," the tall one said, "a simpleton would be able to tell you that in _real_ battle, it'll be the sword that does the killing."

"I-"

The heated discussion faded as I turned away.

It wasn't quite as interesting as I thought it would be. I had thought it would be rude jabs at ladies rather than about the shortages of dummies at training.

Char was watching them as well, eyebrows raised in obvious amusement.

Suddenly, one of the knights tapped Char on the shoulder.

I recognized him as one of the few from Char's ogre raids; Sir Martin, I think he was called.

Char whirled around.

"Sire," Sir Martin said, sweeping a hasty bow, "the knights and I shall ride ahead and inform their Majesties of where you are. They will be worried."

Char nodded. "Thank you, Martin."

He walked away briskly, and joined the others who were already seated upon their horses.

With a final salute in our direction, they galloped off.

"Will the King and Queen be very angry?" I asked nervously, watching as the blue cloaks blended in as one with the night sky.

Char turned to me with a smile, adjusting the saddle on his stallion.

"Not once we tell them what happened."

I nodded, but something in my face must have betrayed my feelings, because he abandoned the reins and took me into his arms.

"You needn't be afraid," he told me, "it'll be no different than the first time you met them."

"Yes, but I'll be a different person this time," I said, "What if they decide that they don't want their son to be with a scheming rogue?"

He laughed. "You're anything but a scheming rogue."

"Lying wench?"

"Never." He kissed the tip of my nose. "You need only be yourself. They'll love you, I'm sure of it."

I tried to let his words comfort me, but I couldn't stop the worry that churned at the pit of my stomach like acid.

How could I possibly explain my deception?

They would understand. Curses were uncommon, but not unheard of. And they must have of heard of a fairy as carefree as Lucinda.

What if they didn't believe me? What if they thought that I was only pulling another charade to trick both Char and the rest of the kingdom? I had already fooled him once; who's to say I hadn't fooled him again?

Char knew the truth.

If worse came to worse, he would be the one that defended me.

That was all that was important, wasn't it? That he believed in me, and that everything that happened was all behind us?

They could dismiss anything he said as merely the delusional confessions of a lovesick young man under the spell of a harpy.

No. Char didn't _look_ like he was under a love spell.

Did he?

What if they thought that I was a spy from Pu? With all the recent rumours of King Frederick plotting the overthrow of Kyrria, every eye and ear would perk up at the slightest hint of the abnormality of espionage.

Nonsense.

I was certain that Queen Daria knew Mother. She would never suspect me to be an enemy.

But what if King Jerrold did? She would hardly have any power over him if he were to come to the conclusion that I was an undercover servant to the King of Pu.

I shook my head. I was being preposterous. I was a Frellan. Anybody could tell them that. It wasn't as if I was a newcomer. I was born here, raised here. People knew my parents. People knew me.

Char was right. I needn't worry. I would tell them the truth as best as I could. They would have no reason to doubt me.

I raised my head from Char's shoulder with a small smile. "If what you say is true then we had best hurry. I should hate to keep their majesties from being able to fawn over Ella of Frell." I batted my eyelashes at him.

He gave a sudden shout of laughter, startling his horse.

"Quite right. We must give my parents the longest possible time to-as you say- _fawn._" He said, still laughing.

With a final squeeze, he let go and took a step back towards his horse.

"This is Achilles," he said to me, gesturing to the white-coated beauty towering before us.

Achilles neighed proudly, stomping his front hoof.

"Fitting name," I mused, eyeing the great sinewy muscles of his flank.

He snorted in the same way that one might in the event of a good-humoured joke.

Then he nudged me, putting his eyes right up to mine.

One blue, one brown.

His one blue eye seemed to shimmer with a light from within. As I peered closer, I could swear I saw the hazy image of three women with copper hair behind the pale iris.

Without warning, the blue eye blinked quickly in a wink.

Startled, I jumped back, but before I had the chance to recover, Char had lifted me onto the stallion.

"Mother named him when he was just a foul," Char said as he leaped up onto Achilles behind me, "she used to say that the only way that he could be killed would be through an arrow in his left eye."

I automatically scooted backwards, pressing myself to Char's front so that he could hold both the reins and I.

"You should use him as target practice" I said as we sped off, "that way, the arrows would just bounce off of him, and you needn't waste time repairing and building dummies."

I could feel the deep laughter rumbling in his chest before I heard it.

"It's only a story, Ella," he whispered in my ear, chuckling, "he's not actually invincible."

"But don't go telling him that," he added as a quick afterthought.

"You cannot be certain," I drawled, looking up at him as I leaned back into his chest.

"No," he said, looking down at me through hooded eyes, a smile dancing on his lips, "but I don't intend to ever find out."

We passed in the rest of the ride in comfortable silence as I used the sound of Char's steady breathing to calm my own nerves as we approached closer to the castle.

I was successful until the spires appeared and I could hear the distant strums of the orchestra.

My heart began to pound and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on the palms of my hands.

I gripped my skirts and clenched my legs even tighter around Achilles's flank.

He whined in protest.

Char noticed.

He moved the reins to one hand and took my hand in his free one.

"Ella," he whispered, pressing his cheek to mine, "nothing bad will happen to you, I promise."

"What if they don't like the real me?" my breath hitched in my throat, "what if they would rather me be a polite maiden with a taste in velvet?"

Maybe I could pretend that I liked the material of the Queen's gown and care about how I wore my hair for a while.

No.

The thought itself made me shudder.

I felt his cheek pull up as he smiled. "We're not so different, my parents and I." he said, "I like a lady that can speak for herself, just as my father does, and just as my mother is. Blank stares and fake smiles might do for most noble families, but a woman marrying into monarchy does need to be able to rule a country at one point. Contrary to what may seem, we're not all lavish balls and feasts."

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I was better off just being myself.

I laughed. "How ironic you can be sometimes. Look at us, about to enter a lavish ball when only moments ago you claimed that this was not a reoccurring event."

He chuckled in my ear. "I just mentally bashed myself in the head for it."

"We'll go in through the back," he said as instead of stopping at the front steps when we passed through the gates, we took a sharp turn towards the stables.

"Does it really matter which side we go in through?"

"No, but I'd rather not face any courtiers right now," he said, cringing, "I did run out quite unceremoniously."

I now realized what it was that he did. To run out like that in the middle of a ball that was thrown in his honour, it must have been a very rude thing to do.

No doubt many of the guests had been left in various stages of annoyance and confusion.

I only had to worry about what the King and Queen thought of me. On the other hand, not only did Char have to face his parents, but he now had to fix his reputation as a fine prince.

I felt awful.

It would be my fault if Char lost the kingdom's respect, and he didn't even seem to care.

When we got to the stables, a young boy dashed out to meet us.

"Sire," he said as Char jumped off of the horse, "their highnesses will see you in the drawing room."

Char nodded. "Thank you Peter," he said as he helped me off of Achilles.

"And Sire," Peter interrupted hastily as we began to walk away, "I've been instructed to take the Lady's belongings to the upstairs chambers."

My eyebrows shot up. How could they have found out so quickly?

Char chuckled, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Stephan'.

"Go on then," Char said to me, gesturing to Peter.

I handed my carpetbag to Peter in a daze.

If they had arranged a place for my belongings, then did that mean they had arranged a place for me as well?

Did the knights tell them enough that they had already accepted me as one of their own?

Or were they taking my carpetbag away to ensure that I didn't have any potential weapons in hand?

We walked around the castle as Peter led Achilles by the reins into the stables for a scrub and a feed.

"How much do you think the knights told them?" I asked as we walked by a fountain with water streaming from a hero and the horse he was saddled upon.

"As much as they knew, I presume," Char took my hand, squeezing it with his, "although I'm certain the words 'ogre tamer' came up quite a bit."

I smiled. "They'll have to let me stay now. Who can resist an ogre tamer?"

He laughed. "No one," he turned to face me and pressed his forehead to mine, "especially me,"

I looked down, the smile fading from my lips. He was too good. How he could still love me enough to run after me in the middle of a high class social gathering despite the risk of putting his dignity on the line after the horrible thing I'd done, I would never understand.

"Char," I said without looking up, "Why was it that you ran out after me? I wasn't exactly in your good books, and your parents are likely furious at you now."

He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on top of my head. After a moment, he spoke. "The only thing I could think of as you ran away was 'not again'. I'd lost you once already; I wasn't about to lose you again. I didn't care what the guests thought, nor do I now. If I could go back in time, I would do it a thousand times over. And the whole purpose of my parents throwing this ball was to let me find a bride; they have no business in being cross with me if I was doing just that."

"What a conversation that'll be," I murmured into his chest, "'Mother, the reason I decided to shed my remaining dignity by dashing like a lunatic out of a highly important social convention was because I was doing exactly what you had told me to do." I said, imitating his deep voice.

He threw his head back in laughter. I joined him, stopping only when he froze, his wide eyes looking at something in the distance.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a tall hedge before I had the chance to turn around and see what he was looking at.

"Char what-"

He made a shushing motion at me as he peeked around the hedge.

Exasperated, I stuck my head around the bush as well.

There was a man walking down the stairs to the palace entrance, dressed in the uniform of the palace court.

As he walked past our hedge, I felt Char stiffen.

Who was this man that we were hiding from?

Determined to get an answer, I pressed my mouth right up close to Char's ear. "Why are we hiding behind a bush from this man?"

"That's Sir Albert," Char whispered, "He is my father's royal advisor. He means well, but he's always been a little sterner than he needs to be. I don't plan on facing his lecture on proper courtly behavior so soon after my fiasco. I plan on avoiding him until the words of the speech he's planned in his head transform from harsh and ego deflating to kinder and somewhat more studious."

"You're afraid of _him_?" I asked as we watched him pick a plump rose, and sniff it as he walked away, humming.

"We all are. He's not physically violent, but his words can cut you deeper than any whip ever could. Everyone but my father tries to establish as least contact with him as possible."

"My, whatever happened to bravery? Or does courage only exist in the Princes of fairytales?"

Char grinned. "Bravery only exists in men so long as there is a damsel involved," he said, dipping down to kiss the side of my face.

"Is that so?"

"Quite,"

"Then what about the _courageous _soldiers who fight battles in the name of their homeland?" I said, emphasizing courageous.

"Their wives and daughters are part of their homeland, aren't they?"

I laughed. "Too right."

Much to my displeasure, we stayed put until Sir Albert disappeared from sight.

"Let's not tally any longer than we have to," Char said as he pulled me out from behind the hedge in the direction of the back doors.

"This is what I've been trying to tell you for the best part of the last quarter of an hour Char,"

"Yes, but we were forced to tally then,"

I shook my head in bemusement as we entered the castle the same way that Sir Albert had come out.

I held my breath for a second as we crossed the pool of light surrounding the doorway, expecting an empty ballroom and hoards of angry courtiers demanding to know the meaning of this nonsense.

Instead I found something that wasn't quite so different from what had been before I left.

The only thing that had changed was that there were fewer guests, and quite a bit more somber looking maidens, waiting to be asked to dance by a dashing prince.

"Shouldn't the ball be over by now? It's long past midnight," I asked Char.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he gripped my hand tightly, "What exactly do you think the knights told them?"

"Maybe that the reason behind your hasty exit from the ball was not in fact as a result of a psychotic episode, but that of a young man merely in love, which calls for the ball to be continued on as normal?" I joked

"It had to be something that they would deem believable, Ella," he said chuckling.

"Your parents don't worry that you may have psychotic episodes?" I asked, keeping up my charade just to humour him for a while longer.

"I should hope not."

I grinned.

"To inform them that opposite to what they believed, the Lady Lela hadn't drugged you and she wasn't a sadistic murderer intent on slitting the Prince's throat?"

"I doubt that they worried you may be a bandit."

I'd run out of ideas.

"Maybe they didn't tell them anything."

He shook his head. "If Peter was instructed to take your belongings, then it means that they've already cleared one of the guest quarters for you. It doesn't make sense for them to not have said anything."

Just then, Sir Stephan walked by, a glass of wine in hand.

"Stephan!" Char called out.

The knight turned, a look of surprise etched on his face.

"I've been looking all over for you, lad. How long does it bloody take to ride a quarter of a mile on a horse?" he strode towards us, his words slightly slurred.

Char's eyebrows shot up, his eyes darting back and forth between Stephan and his goblet.

"How much have you had to drink, Stephan?"

"My dear royal spawn," Stephan said, stumbling as he drew close to us, "there is no limit to how much one can drink in a time of celebration. It would just be absurd!"

I stifled a bubble of laughter with the back of my hand.

Char sighed.

"Stephan," he said, gripping the knight my the shoulders so that he was forced to look into his eyes, "Stephan. I am going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer me. Can you do that?"

"Indeed."

"Do you know what the King and Queen were told when you and the other knights returned to the castle?"

"Ay, of course I do. It was I that spoke to their Majesties," he thumped his chest proudly.

"Go on," I told him. I desperately hoped he was sober at the time that he spoke to them.

"I told them everything I knew," he hiccupped, "Yes I did. I told them that our prince had found the Ogre Tamer, and that her stepfamily was starving her to brink of death. Then Her Majesty, Queen Daria-may God bless her to the ends of heaven- said that she couldn't stand to see such a useful and clever young lassie go to waste, so she arranged for you to stay here from now on. And then-" he hiccupped once more, "they asked why you had run out in such a hurry-what caring parents are they, bless them both to the ends of heaven-and so I said our prince never found his friend the ogre tamer after we arrived back in Frell and he didn't have nearly enough time to look before he left for King Oscaro's court, and so tonight he must've found out where she lived, and went dashing off to retrieve her from the clutches of the sour lady who tries to pass as buttermilk." He finished his speech with a broad smile at both of us.

I felt my jaw drop.

It explained why Peter took my belongings, and why the palace wasn't in an uproar.

I did try to tell Char that Sir Albert seemed in too good of a mood to be rehearsing a lecture on proper manners.

Char had frozen. "What did the other knights say?" he asked slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"The others weren't there."

"_Why?_"

"Well you see, the King was in a right fit by the time we came back, so we though it'd be best if only one person went in to explain, so that he wouldn't be anymore agitated than he already was, and I was the one who volunteered."

Poor Stephan. How distracted must one be that he could miss the fact that I screamed 'I shan't marry the prince' at the top of my lungs?

"And so you came out to celebrate."

"Right too. And why shouldn't I? It's not everyday that you have an ogre-tamer by your side."

"Tell me, Stephan," Char narrowed his eyes, "Do you mind telling me what exactly happened tonight? It seems that my memory has left me"

"Certainly, we all have those days."

"In detail," Char hissed.

"What other way is there to tell a story? You, young lad, ran up to me earlier this evening and rambled on in a mad man's speech about how you'd found Ella the Ogre Tamer. And so of course, I did get a wee bit excited-I do like the Ogre Tamer, you know-and so of course I followed. When we got to Dame Olga's manor, you ran in and demanded that you see everyone in the household. After you found Ella-or the lass that seemed to be Ella, because that awful Hattie claimed that her name was Cinders-you began to converse quietly with her, which I could not hear. As I waited, the hall-although impressive-became hazy and stuffy, so I stepped outside momentarily for a gulp of fresh air. When I returned, you had announced that Ella couldn't be allowed to stay with her stepfamily any longer, and that she was to come with you."

Perhaps Stephan wasn't as distracted as I thought.

He simply hadn't been present long enough to know the entire truth.

Char straightened up and squared his shoulders. "Right. You're going home,"

"What?" Stephan's eyes widened, "No, but I haven't yet begun to celebrate. You can't send me home-"

"It'll do you no good to walk around like a drunken fellow," Char interrupted, "and if you don't get into bed now, your Lady will smack you for certain when you do eventually go back to your manor."

"My Lady can't smack me for doing a good deed-"

But Char had already signaled to one of the squires.

"Escort Sir Stephan to a carriage, and instruct the driver to head to his manor, please," Char handed Stephan to the young boy, "Keep a good firm grip on him so that he doesn't run off."

The boy nodded hurriedly before taking Stephan by the arm.

"Also," Char added as an afterthought, "When you do come back, please inform his wife that he had had too much to drink and that I sent him home. And that if she doesn't mind, to prepare him a sage and bay bath in the morning for the brutal head pains he's going to wake up with."

Char chuckled to himself as the squire all but dragged Sir Stephan down the hall.

I looked at Char. "Sage and bay?"

"Come now, Ella. I spend quite a bit of time with my cook, and I've picked up quite a bit over the years." He took my hand as we made our way to the drawing room.

"Rose and lavender are more effective when dealing with the after effects of alcohol."

"Yes, but I don't think an esteemed knight would appreciate smelling like a bride's bouquet until his next bath."

I laughed. "It could be revenge for landing us in the mess that he did."

"Don't remind me," Char groaned, "It would've been much easier to start from the beginning of the tale, rather than unravel every false bit of information that Stephan has fed my parents."

"Well," I said nervously, "At least I'm sort of on their good side, I think."

"I should hope so," Char trailed as we came to a halt in front of a set of tall doors.

I took a deep breath.

My fate loomed behind those doors.

But as we made to enter, the guards stopped us.

"The King and Queen have requested the presence of the prince alone," one said.

Alone?

Char raised an eyebrow. "I think you are quite mistaken. My parents are aware that there are two of us."

The guard took a look between Char and I, and his eyes softened. "I am only obeying the orders that I was given, your Highness," he said more kindly.

"I'm not going to leave her out here by herself!" Char said indignantly.

They paused.

"We'll keep an eye on the little lady if you wish," the other said.

Char sighed, deeming the battle lost. He turned to look at me. "I'll be back before you know it," he said softly. With a final squeeze of my hand, he disappeared into the drawing room.


	3. The Balance

**DISCLAIMER: It is all Gail Carson Levine's. I don't own anything. **

**Chapter 3**

**The Balance**

White mist curled around the moon, sweeping across the stone and forming lazy spirals in the air.

Through the haze, three women could be seen, each their own person, but each with the same copper hair.

A playful breeze whipped Aleda's fiery locks across her face as she stared intently into a crystal as foggy as the air about her.

She only shoved her hair behind her shoulders and peered closer, trying to create an image from the white cloud.

"How much longer will this take Aleda?" her eldest sister, Alta said as she paced back and forth.

Aleda huffed impatiently. "Well I can't very well focus with you prowling about."

Alta spun around so quickly that her white dress billowed about her. "I don't quite think you understand how important this Aleda. If the image has changed like you said-"

"Of course it has! The future is not set in stone, Alta. The smallest circumstance will send it in a completely different direction."

"_What_ direction, that is what I ask, and what you fail to answer."

"I can't produce a clear image," Aleda said, "Whatever is brewing, we must wait for it to boil before we interfere."

"I say we don't interfere at all. They're two simple humans, what can they possibly be capable of?" Allegra, the second eldest asked.

"Simple humans?" Alta snapped, "In case you've forgotten, sister, one is part fairy, and the other is the crown prince of Kyrria!

"You're making this far too complicated, Alta-"

"Quiet!" Aleda held up a hand, "I see something."

"What is it?" Alta appeared behind Aleda's shoulder before she'd finished her sentence.

"It's just shadows. Shadows on a grassy hill," Aleda squinted, trying to decipher the cloudy image, "and blood. Lots of blood. Shadows on a grassy hill stained with blood."

"That can't be right," Alta snatched the crystal from her sister's hand, shaking it.

"I suggest you do not poke your nose into an area that isn't of your expertise, sister dear," Aleda hissed, grabbing the crystal again, "I know what it is that I'm seeing."

"Just a quarter of an hour ago your crystal was clear, Aleda!"

"A fraction of a second is all the time something needs to change, and you dare complain about a full quarter of an hour?"

"Then what? _What _was the circumstance that changed it all?" Alta resumed pacing.

"The girl rid herself of that fool Lucinda's spell earlier. I heard the boy talking of it." Allegra polished her crystal on the bottom of her white hem.

"That can't be it," Aleda argued, "I saw that before the child's fifth name day."

"What else did you see?" Alta swooped over to Allegra, "what could they have possibly done in the past few minutes that caused this?"

"It was not they. I followed them as best as I could, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, unless you happen to be interested in the banter of two young lovers."

"That is hardly helpful, Allegra. I _told_ you it was no use to be the eye of the horse."

"What other option did I have? Did you want me to be the eye of the Prince himself? I'm sure that would've gone over just magnificently, Alta."

"You should've followed something with more than half a brain! Something of bigger importance!" Alta exploded.

Allegra stood up. "I need something with exactly half a brain to do my job properly, Alta. Have you any idea how difficult it is decipher the difference between the truth and what the host believes to be the truth if they're of an intelligent species? The horse is as close as I could get to the two, and so the horse I will use." She said, fuming.

"Wait!" Aleda said before Alta had the chance to snap something back to her sister, "There's something else."

This time, both sisters surrounded the third.

"It is a throne room. With a man, an angry man at that."

"What has the boy's father done this time?" Alta hissed.

"It is not the boy's father. This room isn't even in Kyrria. That is why I couldn't get a proper view. That outcome depends solely on what happens here."

"What exactly, happens here?"

"I cannot tell. There is something blocking it; another decision must be made before this becomes clear." Aleda muttered.

"How long would you say we have?" Allegra peered into the haze that enlightened her sister.

"For this? A fortnight, at most," Aleda said.

"A-"

"The High Priestesses of the Council requested an audience with me?" A soft voice tinkled.

The sisters snapped around, only to see a short fairy a way back, stooped gracefully in a bow.

"Mandy," Alta said, gliding over to meet the fairy, "You are late."

"I apologize, but I cannot leave my realm while in the presence of humans," Mandy straightened, her frizzy hair quivering, "You understand, I'm sure."

Alta huffed angrily. "There is an important matter we need to discuss with you, Mandy."

"What of?"

"Your godchild. She has ruined us all." She clapped her hand to her forehead.

"Ruined?"

"Our sister seems to think that the child and the Prince have disrupted the Balance," Allegra said exasperatedly, appearing behind Alta.

"That is impossible," Mandy said, "Only minutes ago did she break her curse. She's less of a threat now than she's ever been in her lif-"

"They most certainly have," Alta interrupted harshly. "Look here," She waved her hand and the air shimmered around them. A small square of silk the colour of a midsummer's sky appeared, threaded with miniscule jewels of gold and darker blue. "This was Prince Charmont's path on the day of his birth. For ages, I saw nothing but the ordinary."

"Nor did I," Aleda piped.

Alta continued, ignoring her sister, "Two years hence, this change was brought forth," she waved her hand again. The blue grew slightly longer, and a square of emerald green appeared, threaded with pearls. As they watched, the green slowly attached itself to the blue with a single line of turquoise thread.

"This as well, did not bother me," Alta said with a wave of her opposite hand. The two looms grew, stich by stich. And with each line that spun, so did a thread of turquoise attaching them. "Few paths intertwine at such an early stage, but it is not impossible."

"I became concerned," Alta flicked her wrist, "because of this."

The four women circled the silk, head close together. The two looms spun more quickly, but instead of spinning outwards, they grew towards each other, and turquoise thread began to dominate both.

"As far as I was aware, this had only happened once before. To a pair of lovers in Ayortha, many years ago. Legend has it that their love burned so bright that it stopped the sun in its tracks. Could it have happened again? I asked myself, it was plausible. However, _this_ was not."

At the snap of her fingers, the image transformed. "This was what I found this morning."

What was left was a single loom, the colour of an aquamarine gem. Laced with diamonds and pearls, it sparkled brightly even in the darkness.

"They've combined, sisters. I cannot tell one loom from the other."

The three other women froze.

"What does this mean exactly?" Mandy asked, her voice shaky.

"It means that one life cannot be cut without the other ending. I cannot snap one string without the other severing as well. I cannot even cleave them both. It is against the laws of the Balance. I cannot take more than one life before creating a new one, nor can I create two at once.

"The very fabric of all nature has begun to shred. This is not something we could have seen before hand. It is outside the realm of time itself."

"What shall we do?" Allegra hushed.

"Mandy, keep an eye on your goddaughter. Ensure that she doesn't do anything out of the ordinary."

Mandy nodded as a clap of thunder struck.

The women looked up as pellets of rain began to fall.

"Sisters, call upon the Council. Tell them that the Balance has been broken."

* * *

King Jerrold had never seen his eldest son act so strangely.

It had begun just before he had left for Ayortha.

According to Cecelia, Char had been found whistling in the council rooms, and skipping in the halls.

"I daresay Char has fallen in love," she had told him when they discovered him howling with laughter at one of the servants' rather rude jokes.

He had smiled at that.

He liked the idea of his steady son silly with love; it made him find joy in a time in court where there was hardly anything to smile about.

He had expected long, lovesick letters listing the many virtues of a particular young lady when he asked his son about his romantic interests, but instead, he was always met with a firm and detached refusal, saying that no one had quite caught his eye.

That had put him off quite a bit.

At that point, he decided that he would ask Char in person when he returned.

But when he came back, something had changed.

He longer played with his brothers, or picked sweet smelling flowers for his mother.

Nor did he have lively rows with his sister on her tendencies to play the lute at the most inconvenient of times.

He didn't take strolls through the menagerie, but instead spent most of the day locked up in his rooms.

He didn't talk during meals and was constantly in a foul mood, snapping at the littlest of things.

When he first asked his wife, she dismissed it as the troubles of youth. "All young ones go through this sort of thing, Jerrold," she had said, "It may be the time where he knows that he is no longer a boy, but is not yet quite ready to accept the responsibilities of a man. I say we let him be for the time being."

Thus, it came as quite a surprise when she suggested they throw three balls in Char's honour.

"I would like for him to meet the maidens of Frell," Daria told him over breakfast one morning, "And, if he so pleases, to choose one of them as bride. He is at a marriageable age, and I fear that we don't call for a wedding soon, we will be forced to hand over our eldest son to a foreign princess for a purely political contract."

He had to agree with her then. He would much rather his son marry whom he wanted rather than see him endure a stiff, loveless marriage.

By the night of the second ball, Char seemed to have perked up quite a bit. He even helped Cecelia create a garland from daisies to wear.

On the morning of the third ball, he asked his son if he'd met any fanciable young maidens.

His answer was no, but that he had found a friend who had made the balls bearable. Her name was Lady Lela of Bast, he said.

Perhaps he could consider her as a bride, he had suggested.

He'd only shaken his head.

"Father, I know that it will pain you, but I've vowed to never marry,"

He had spluttered inconceivable words as his son walked away.

It was preposterous. How could a prince, and a crown one at that, not marry?

He had hopes that Char had gone back on his word when he introduced them to the Lady Lela, but they crashed when his son remarked that he didn't love her.

The real question lay in the past. What had happened to Char?

And why did Lela irk him? Although he was certain he had never laid eyes on such a peculiar lady as she, he couldn't quite escape the nagging feeling that something was oddly familiar about her.

Furthermore, what was this ogre tamer nonsense Stephan was blubbering to him about?

What delusional dream was Daria nurturing, to invite this mystical tale to live in court?

And what of the mad dash out the front gates with a hoard of knights charging after Char?

It was that he thought of, as he paced the length of the drawing room.

"Jerrold dear," Daria said, not looking up from her book, "do stop pacing; it's making me awful nervous."

"I'm thinking," the King said, "What could have possibly gotten into the boy's head?"

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonably explanation. After all, Char himself is a perfectly reasonable boy," she responded calmly, "Jerrold, are you certain you can't think sitting down? The flooring has become a different colour where you've trekked through it."

"I-"

Just then, the door opened, and in walked in Char.

"Char sweetheart," Daria set her book aside, "I'm so glad you found your ogre tamer friend. She'll be of much use. Did the servants show her up to her room?"

"She is outside the doo-"

"What exactly are you playing at?" the King snapped, "Or pray, do tell. Are you simply too intoxicated to think logically?"

"Father I-"

"Do you or do you not realize that you have a reputation to uphold? It is not courteous and certainly not very respectable when the crown prince dashes out of a ball thrown in honour of him like a madman!"

"Jerrold, please-"

"Do you have any clue as to how long Cecelia scampered about, feeding the story that you had left to return a purse a guest had left behind before the rumours that you'd ran off with one of the maids died out?"

"Father, if you would just listen-"

"And what is this nonsense about vowing to never marry? I had wanted to give you a choice, so that you could choose to marry for love if you wished, not for you to take advantage of that and stay a bachelor until your dying day!"

"But I _am_ going to marry!" Char exploded, his voice ringing across the spacious room.

Silence fell.

"How now?"

"I've been trying to tell you-"

"To who? The Lady Lela?"

"Yes-no. A sort of-"

"Oh for goodness sake!" the Queen cried, "Jerrold, Char, do sit down and talk this through properly."

The two men stared at her for a moment, then at each other.

Then, promptly, they sat down.

"Proceed," the King said quietly, never breaking his gaze.

Char sighed, looking down at his hands. "I knew her long before I saw her at the balls. I didn't realize it, because of the mask she always wore."

Jerrold raised an eyebrow. "And-?"

Char paused. "I'd originally proposed to her in the spring."

His father's eyebrows shot up.

The Queen dropped the glass she'd been carrying, which shattered on the stone. "You've been betrothed for most of the year and you didn't think to tell us?" she asked incredulously.

"No," Char said firmly, "That's why I did not come to you. I wanted to be sure that she returned my feelings before announcing it.

"A few weeks hence I received a letter from her stepsister, saying that she had eloped. I didn't quite know what to make of it, so instead I kept quiet and hoped that with time, I would be able to forget her."

"And then she magically appeared at the balls, somehow not married?"

"Yes,"

The king's expression turned stony. "Charmont, I think it's best if you retired to your rooms. I've had quite enough of your cock and bull stories for one night."

The Prince paled. "Father, I do not lie, it's the truth-"

"I would be far more understanding if you were to make a habit of being honest with-"

"Will you just allow me to bring her here and explain herself?"

"So that you can run off and return again at another ungodly hour?"

"Father, she's just outside those doors!"

"Char, I had thought you ogre tamer friend was standing outside," Daria said, carefully picking up shards of broken glass.

"She's one and the same, mother!" Char shouted.

Silence fell.

The King didn't know what to make of it.

His son was in love with an Ogre Tamer.

His son was to wed someone whom he was not sure was human.

Daria looked at her husband. "Do you think you can control your temper while we meet with her Jerrold? I would hate for you to scare the poor lass off before she has the chance to say anything."

"Daria, you don't actually believe-"

"I do," she said firmly, "You were once young and in love too, Jerrold. You should know better than anyone else the strange things it makes you do, much less believe that Char has any reason to lie to us."

Jerrold sighed. "Bring in the maiden."

Char stood up, and with a quick bow towards his parents, left for the doors.

Jerrold gave his wife a strange look. "The Ogre Tamer is human?"

She stared at him. "What else would she be?"

He shrugged. "I had thought perhaps she was a wild elfin girl Char and the knights had found in the forest."

She laughed her loud, musical laugh. "She does seem a bit too good to be true, doesn't she?"

He squared his shoulders, and when he thought she wasn't looking, he let a smile escape.

* * *

I had sat on a small chaise in a little nook across the drawing room, staring at the heavy doors.

Ornately carved with polished handles, they stood tall and proud, holding whatever secrets were let out in the room they guarded.

I sighed.

At first, the guards struggled to hold a conversation with me, but I quickly grew bored with their endless chatter on the bosoms of the kitchen maids.

So instead, I made a game of what the doors would say to me if they had the words to speak.

They mocked me. We're much to grand to let someone like you pass through, they said. After all, you're only a scullery maid.

Was I only a scullery maid?

Was it the title that made the person, or the person that made the title?

I wished for the umpteenth time that the walls were thin enough to let sound through.

But perhaps it was better that they were an arm's length thick of solid stone.

Perhaps I didn't really want to hear what was being said.

Perhaps I was better off making an escape now rather than face my punishment for treason.

No.

I couldn't do that to Char.

The doors swung open, and Char stepped out, looking hassled.

I stood up.

"What happened?"

He sighed.

"They're quite perplexed. My father is vexed at me for not showing proper princely behavior, but after I got it out that you were here in body and not a child hood friend of my imagination, they want to see you."

"Now?" My heart pounded in my throat.

"No, Ella, three months from now," he smiled, "I only need you to explain everything as best as you can, and to shine me in a light where I don't seem mentally deranged."

"But I-" I looked down at myself. I couldn't possibly see the King and Queen in this state. My hair was windswept and my gown was wrinkled from our ride.

Char took my hands in his.

"You look beautiful," he said, and he led me into the drawing room.

Once more, they rose as we entered the vast space.

Various armchairs and chaises were arranged in a peculiar pattern around a hearth, where a cheery fire crackled. Heavy velvet drapes were pulled across soaring windows, which undoubtedly let through much light during the day. Like most of the other areas of the palace, the stone walls were hung with tapestries.

"Lady Lela," King Jerrold said, "Pleasure to see to again."

Remembering my manners, I swept a curtsey.

"No," the Queen stared at me, "that is no Lela."

Could she have recognized me so fast?

"You are Lady Eleanor," she said, as we got closer.

"Ella," I corrected.

I mentally clamped a hand over my mouth.

How could I have been so rude?

I could see Char fighting to contain his laughter out of the corner of my eye.

The King raised his eyebrows. "Sit then, Lady Ella," he said, his voice playing on the trace of a joke.

I sat down.

"Tea?" the Queen held up a steaming pot.

We all shook our heads.

"No, thank you," I muttered.

"I've been told you are an-what do they call it-Ogre Tamer," King Jerrold said, crossing his fingers in his lap.

"I-I suppose so, Your Grace."

"How does that work, exactly? Does it involve a complicated enchantment?" he asked eagerly.

"No, Your Grace. Ogres are just as vulnerable to their magic as we are. I imitate their oily way of speaking."

"And it works?" he leaned foreword.

"It got me out alive, did it not?"

I froze. I had contradicted the King and Queen twice now. It was a wonder they hadn't had me thrown out.

"Can you use it on other beings?"

Could I?

"I haven't tried."

"So-"

"Jerrold," the Queen cut him off, "Although useful, we're not here to discuss the inner workings of Ella's peculiar talent, dear."

Jerrold straightened up, "But my dear, this is very importa-"

"Not at this time," Daria told him, "Allow me."

This would be it.

Char found my hand on the cushions underneath my skirts and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

I held tight.

"Char tells us you are to be his bride."

Bride.

With a wedding.

I hadn't thought about it until now.

"Yes,"

His thumb traced soft circles on the back of my hand.

"Yet you didn't meet at the balls." It was a statement, not a question. She was just confirming what Char had undoubtedly told her.

I gulped.

"No, Your Grace. We met at my mother's funeral."

"And then again during the midst of the Ogre Raids."

"Yes."

"What was a young lass like you doing on the road to the Fens?" The King asked in surprise.

"I was traveling from finishing school in Jenn. I was taken captive by a band of ogres on the road." I didn't mention that I had run away, or that I was an easy target, being on foot.

The King frowned. "Coachmen are trained exclusively to evade ogre attacks. How did that occur?"

"I-"

"Ella ran away from finishing school on foot," Char said.

The King and Queen looked at each other.

Then they burst laughing

His throaty chuckle mixed in with her tinkling one, rising above us and shaking the teapot.

"Ran away! From finishing school! Isn't that exactly what they teach you not to do in that blasted place?" King Jerrold said, chuckling.

"No, Jerrold. I'm sure there are far more unspeakable horrors there than that. I imagine the sewing and dancing wore her to shreds!"

"It did." I said a matter of a factly.

They only laughed harder. Beside me, Char pursed his lips to keep from snickering.

"I apologize, Ella," the Queen said, wiping a tear from her eye, "It's only that you are so much like Eleanor. I'm sure she would have done the same if her father hadn't thought it best to get her a Governess instead."

She would?

"Please, do go on," the King said, pressing his fist into his mouth.

And so with only the occasional interruption of chortling, I continued.

"We wrote to each other-as friends-during Char's stay in Ayortha for a while,"

"Until he proposed,"

Char stiffened. I knew it was something he'd rather not hear nor remember.

"Yes, I-I couldn't accept, nor could I refuse. I wanted to make him believe that I was long gone, so I-I feigned a letter in my step-sister's hand, saying that I had eloped."

I exhaled a breath, waiting for their reaction.

If their expressions changed, I didn't notice.

Perhaps they were far more trusting of their people than I thought.

Perhaps they did not jump to the conclusion of treason.

Perhaps I wouldn't spend my night in the dungeons.

"Why?"

I bit my lip. "I was under a curse. Lucinda, a fairy, had given me what she thought was a gift of obedience at my birth."

The Queen's jaw dropped a little. "Is she the same fairy who turned that Earl's firstborn into a squirrel?"

"I don't understand." the King's brow furrowed.

"It meant that I had to obey every direct order I was given," I explained, "It would be dangerous to reside in court with that type of predicament. If someone were to find out-"

"They would use it against all of us." The King finished.

I nodded wordlessly. "I came to the balls because I wanted to see him once more, but masked and with a fake identity so that he nor my step family would recognize me." I began to feel the heat of a blush creep up my neck.

"Were you forbidden to come to the balls?" Queen Daria asked, perplexed.

"Not exactly, Your Grace. My stepfamily had used my curse to make a servant of me, and they assumed that I would have nothing fine enough to wear to a ball."

"How did you lay your hands on that, then? It can't have been your sister's, she would've noticed in an instant." This time, it was Char who asked.

I looked down sheepishly. "It's one of my mother's old gowns."

I played with the lace peeking out from the sleeves.

"Then you ran off after her when you discovered who she was." This time, the statement was directed at Char.

"Precisely."

"There is only one thing that I do not understand. Ella, my dear, when you say you were cursed, does that apply to the present?" King Jerrold asked.

"No," I fidgeted in my seat, "I broke it a little while ago."

"How, may I ask?"

I took a deep breath, "By refusing an order. I was always told that I could break the curse myself, and that encouraged me to try to defy every command I was given. But disobeying simple orders were never enough. It had to be something important, something that I cared about. Refusing to marry while being a danger to everyone around me was just that, I suppose." My face was aflame with colour.

It was one thing to explain that to Char, but entirely another to tell a pair of monarchs that I'd deceived them because I was madly in love with their son.

There was a heavy pause, in which only the crackle of flames could be heard.

Then the Queen took my free hand in both of hers.

"My poor child. When your mother passed away, I grieved that I'd lost such a friend and spirit. I prayed to the heavens that I'd be blessed with one like her, and here you are."

Her kind smile warmed the brown of her eyes, and although I hadn't known her for long, she made me feel as if I could tell her my deepest secrets without fear of being judged.

Like a mother.

I gave a small smile.

The King laid his hand on top of hers.

"I had hoped that my son would choose a lady like you," he said.

I pressed my bottom lip between my teeth.

"You don't-you don't think that I may be an undercover spy?"

Their eyes widened.

"Heavens! What for?" the King exclaimed.

The Queen shook her head. "I trusted Eleanor. I don't doubt for a second that she raised her daughter to be like her."

I nodded.

I saw now where Char had inherited his kindness, and his gentle manner towards those that he thought were in need of his assistance.

Suddenly, the Queen rose, and her husband stood with her.

"We must see the last of the guests off, my dear. We will talk in the morrow." King Jerrold said, squeezing my hand.

We rose with them.

"Thank you, for…everything." I whispered, seeing it difficult to find the right words to express my gratitude.

They both smiled.

"It has been a long night. I will see to it that a servant shows you up to your rooms." Queen Daria kissed my forehead.

I remembered my curtsies before she swept out of the room.

Char cleared his throat while I smoothed my skirts.

"I shall accompany you," he told me.

"Quite the contrary, Charmont, I must have a word with you," the King said, fiddling with his cuffs, "Ella, you do not mind?"

I wondered what would happen if I said I did.

"Certainly not, Your Grace," I said instead, humouring myself.

I bent my knees in a quick curtsy and shot a last look at Char before I backed out of the room.

* * *

King Jerrold stood in front of the hearth, feet planted wide and he watched the flames dance.

The flickering lights deepened the already sharp planes of his face, and if anyone but immobile stone were facing him, they would exclaim that he was furious.

Behind him, his son stood waiting.

For a long while, no voice was heard.

Then the King spoke.

"You have chosen well, my son. I congratulate you for that."

"Thank you, Father," the Prince said softly, feeling his chest swell.

His father turned around and strode towards him shoes clapping on the stone.

"Furthermore, I apologize for thinking you mad. I had no reason to distrust you."

"Accepted."

"There is a matter I wish to discuss with you." He placed his hands upon his son's shoulders.

"Anything, Father," Although he tried not to show it, there was little Char thought his Father could say that would burst his mood.

The King took a deep breath.

"I understand that it would be less than kind to have Ella stay anywhere else after the ordeal she has faced. In fact, I'd prefer to keep her here. She will be useful in court and I'd like to keep an eye on your lass."

Char furrowed his brow in confusion

"However, there are reasons why those that are betrothed do not stay under the same roof until marriage, Char."

Char blanched. "Father, I-"

"I trust that you can be careful."

"Father-"

"A child conceived to a prince out of wedlock is not looked highly upon, nor does it do anything to convince anyone that any marriage in the future is valid."

"_Father." _Char gripped the back of a chaise.

"Just something to think about. You understand, do you not?"

"Father, we are _not _having this conversation." He refused to meet his father's eyes.

"Very well," Jerrold straightened, and a glimmer of laughter flashed in his eyes, "I expect to see you at breakfast in the morning, Charmont."

And with that he strode out of the room.

Char could swear he heard his father's booming laughter a ways down the hall as he stood there, trying to recollect himself.

When the furious blush had seeped from his cheeks at last, he shook himself out and walked out of the drawing room, leaving the embers of the fire to die alone.

When the door slammed shut, the drapes rustled.

* * *

I had followed a young maid that was waiting for me outside of the drawing room with many "_this way miss" _and "_if you please it miss"._

Although plain, her face was scrubbed, her hair was pulled back neatly and there wasn't a single spot on her white apron.

The court took better care of their servants than Mum Olga could ever dream.

She walked quickly, her blue skirts rustling as we passed by the ballroom.

I stole a swift peek in.

The King and Queen were bidding good night to the last guests; a pair of nobles that looked exhausted but content in their finery.

"We are only disappointed that we couldn't hear your fine prince sing," the man was saying.

"Certain circumstances bid him to be somewhere else, I am afraid. We apologize that he was not able to stay to say goodnight." The Queen answered smoothly.

As we swept by, I saw a legion of servants cleaning up. They were carrying piles dirty dishes and glasses to the kitchens, while others were sweeping and polishing the flagstones.

That was why the maid was in a hurry. She likely had a whole list of tasks to complete before she could retire for the night.

It felt odd, to be the guest and not a maid.

Normally, I would be the one showing Mum Olga's or Hattie's guests to their quarters late at night.

A ways back from the front hall, the already tall ceiling opened up, revealing a massive sweep of a staircase.

Char was right.

It was perfect for sliding.

It was steeper, longer, and curved around more bends then I'd ever dreamed.

I itched to slide down as we walked up.

Instead, I ran my hands along the banister, reveling in the smoothness of the polished marble.

Above it stood a large vaulted dome, framed in windows of stained glass showing court scenes.

I imagined it would be a wondrous scene when daylight shone through.

The hallway above was darker, lit at only intervals where there were torches.

Drapes were pulled shut across the windows as we twisted our way around the wide hallways.

At last, the maid stopped in front of a door.

"These be your quarters, miss," she said, "If there isn't anything else you require-"

"No," I said, "Thank you very much. I shouldn't keep you any longer."

"Your belongings are inside, and I laid a nightgown for you. I could help you dress, if it would please you." She said.

"No, I would prefer to do it myself, thank you."

She swept a curtsey before she hurried back the way we had come.

"Good night," I said to her retreating form.

Perhaps I would see her in the morning and ask her name.

I put my hand on the door handle.

I smiled slowly.

Everything was coming right.

Just like Mandy had said.

I couldn't remember a time when I'd been happier.

"Are you going to open that?" a familiar voice asked from the darkness.

I jumped, startled.

Char stood leaning on a pillar, his faced bathed in half-light.

He laughed.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"There are may shortcuts one can take in this palace," he grinned.

Secret passages?

They would be handy, if Char were to make a habit of avoiding small talk with stifling courtiers.

"Can you show me?" I asked, curious.

His smile widened, if that were even possible.

"I will, in the morning."

I smiled as stepped closer.

"Shouldn't you have been bidding goodnight to the last of your guests in a polite and distant manner?" I smirked.

"Yes, but I couldn't bare the thought of not saying goodnight," he whispered.

He took a lock of hair that had fallen over my face, and tucked it gently behind my ear.

My heart began to pound.

"You have every other night to say goodnight."

He sighed happily and put his hands around my waist.

"That is what I am counting on," he pulled me closer, "But there's a part of me that thinks that I will wake up any second, only to realize this was a dream and that you were never here."

"It has been too long, hasn't it?" I agreed.

"Did I tell you I missed you?" Char said to me, burying his face into my hair.

"No," I said, putting my hands around his shoulders, teasing.

"I missed you," he breathed.

"You did now."

"I'll say it a thousand more times. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you." He said, kissing the side of my face with every repeat.

I turned my head just to the side so that I could whisper in his ear. "I've missed you as well."

And I had.

My heart no longer ached at the thought of his voice, or the touch of his hands.

Instead, it inflated with a bubble; a bubble that could not be burst.

He squeezed me for a moment longer, and then let go.

"I won't keep you from your sleep, love," he said, "Go. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight."

He kissed my forehead as I turned the door handle and slipped into the room.


	4. Cecilia

**DISCLAIMER: The rights to the book have not changed. I still don't own anything.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Cecilia**

The next morning, I woke as the first rays of light warmed the back of my eyelids.

I opened my eyes to a gleaming sunrise streaming through my windows, and slipped out from underneath the warm covers, shivering at the sudden cold. I gathered my nightgown about me, and tiptoed my way across the frozen floor. Hesitantly, I opened the window. A sudden blast of icy wind whipped across my face; stinging.

I took a deep breath, filling my nose with fresh air. Nothing, not even cold weather could ruin my day today. I smiled into the sunlight, leaning on the windowsill. For the first time in over a year, I would enjoy my day. No orders would be given. No beatings, no taunts. I would never have to lay eyes on Hattie's smug face again.

After a few minutes, I could feel my face begin to numb, but I could hardly care.

"My lady? Your Grace! Whatever do you think you're doing?" the maid from the night before had appeared inside my doorway, "Get inside, you'll catch a chill!" She bustled in, carrying a bundle of blue cloth.

She quickly shooed me from the window, then swung the pane shut.

I felt strange. Although I didn't need to, I had obediently stepped away from the window the moment she had told me to.

I feared it had become a habit. I would have to break it, somehow.

"Tell me to do something," I told her.

"Pardon me?" she raised an eyebrow, laying the bundle of cloth on a chair and ripping off my sheets.

"Give me an order." I repeated.

She gave me a funny look as she fluffed my pillows. "Alright," she said finally, "Put on that gown and let me do your hair."

I waited a moment, but nothing happened. No dizziness, no pain.

I laughed.

"No," I said to her.

"Are you quite alright, my Lady?"

"Very much so, yes." I managed through my fit.

She stepped towards me slowly. "You should dress now, your Grace. The Queen has instructed a carriage to be sent to your old home in a quarter of an hour, and she would like you to know that if you please, you may pick up your cook in person."

I stopped mid giggle.

How could I have possibly forgotten about Mandy?

What I dreadful person I was.

I couldn't imagine the torture she had to bear from my stepfamily last night while I dreamed away peacefully in this warm bed.

I didn't even check my magic book to see if she had left a message for me.

My only condolence was that I was eternally grateful that Char had stayed true to his word.

"Yes, alright." I picked up the bundle of blue cloth, which turned out to be an everyday gown of the thicker kind, made for winter.

I slipped into it gratefully.

"I borrowed this from one of Queen Daria's ladies," the maid said as she laced up the dress from the back, "Seeing as though it doesn't look like you've got much spare clothing in your belongings, I thought it'd be a little odd if you ran about wearing that white finery until we take you to the seamstress." She eyed the crumpled heap on the bed end stool that was my ball gown.

I cringed.

She was right. Why couldn't I think to snatch at least one decent dress of my mother's from the back of Mandy's wardrobe last night?

Maybe I still could.

I would be going there anyways, to take Mandy away. Who's to say I couldn't slip up the stairs and take the things that I didn't find of much use last night?

"What is your name?" I asked the maid as she sat me down in front of a dressing table and began to work a brush through my tangles.

She looked up, startled.

Our eyes met in the mirror.

I noticed that her irises were the lightest of browns; they were almost golden in colour.

"Angeline, my Lady." She stammered.

I smiled as she pulled my hair into a braid with deft, swift fingers. "That's a pretty name."

"Thank you," she blushed, "Your name is beautiful as well."

"I have my mother's name," I told her.

My mother had made the name beautiful Her spirit had made it like the warm breeze in your hair after a season of ice. She had made it sound like a joyous song bubbling from between your lips.

"I know, my Lady."

She paused.

"I grew up hearing it and the stories it came with. I always imagined you as the heroine in the tales of beasts and adventures. Ella of Frell comes here at last!"

Stories?

"How did you know about me?" I asked, shocked.

She smiled sheepishly. "Whenever our cook would tell your prince tales of you and your mother, I would make a habit of listening to them."

I vaguely remembered Char telling me once that our cooks would meet in the market.

"I could tell he was in love, right from the very day he began to tell us tales of his own, yes I did. But I didn't want to say anything, for fear of cursing it. I couldn't let that chance slip away from me, to be able to live under the same roof as the legend of my childhood and see her everyday!"

In her excitement, she twirled and tucked a daisy from a vase of flowers into my hair.

To what extreme, did Mandy and Char exaggerate their stories, I could never guess.

I stood up, and put my hands on her shoulders.

Her cheeks were flushed.

"I fear that you will find me to not be as heroic as you had thought." I said.

She shook her head frantically. "Oh, but you are. Tricking ogres with their own magic, running from finishing school in the dead of night…"

She continued, but I wasn't listening.

Instead, I laughed.

It felt strange to imagine myself as something others would look up to. I had always thought I was too reckless, too gawky, and too stubborn to have any effect on anyone.

I wondered what Mandy would say when I told her.

Mandy.

How careless I was.

"I must be going," I said hurriedly.

"Oh, I mustn't-" Angelina broke off, and curtsied.

"We'll talk more later!" I shouted as I ran from the room.

Had I already missed the carriage?

I dashed in what I thought was the same way I had come last night. However, I must've made some wrong turns, because I sprinted in what seemed to be endless circles until I finally came upon that same grand staircase.

I paused at the top.

The early morning light spilled through the coloured glass on the ceiling, dancing on the walls, and creating intricate patterns on the white marble. I traced my fingers on the polished stone. The path that the bannister led was more beautiful than any other I had seen.

Did I have time? I hesitated for a fraction of a second before I sat on the rail and pushed myself off.

It was a dream. Tapestries whipped past in flashes of gold and blue and brown as I slid past. My hair whipped about my face and my skirts billowed out before me. I absentmindedly prayed that no one would walk past then, for fear that they would receive a rather unnecessary view.

My belly dropped from underneath me as the bannister swept around a curve, and before I knew it, I had stumbled unto the flagstones.

I didn't wait long enough to recollect myself. Instead, I clutched my skirts and kept running, bashing into quite a number of things on the way.

The knights guarding the entrance looked at me strangely as I tore through the doors, just in time to see a carriage stop at the foot of the steps.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I didn't think I could have managed to get to Mandy on foot before the carriage left Mum Olga's manor with her inside of it.

I stopped for a moment to smooth my hair and fix my gown, which had slipped from my shoulder on one side. Then I descended the steps at a more reasonable pace, trying to muster as much dignity as I could possibly manage.

I shivered. Although the dress was made of heavy wool, the neckline was wide and the back scooped low enough that most of my shoulders and a big part of my chest was left bare. As I slipped off the bottommost step, the footmen jumped off their perches, bowing low as they opened the doors to the carriage.

"My lady," they said.

I smiled gratefully as I was handed off into the warm interior of the coach. I settled back on the cushioned seats and swung my legs back and forth as the carriage lurched into motion.

I made a mental inventory of the things I had to take from the manor. If I were to sneak to the upstairs floor, I could stay no longer than a few minutes at most; even less if Olive were to be awake, prowling the halls like she often did in the morning.

My worries did not extend to Hattie and Mum Olga. The day that they rose before noon would be the day that the sun rose in the west and set in the east.

I would have to stick to the servant's staircases, rather than take the main passages as I usually did to infuriate my stepfamily.

By the time the coach pulled up to the front of the manor, I had calculated that if I ran as fast as I could without making noise towards Mandy's room and back, I shouldn't have to waste longer than three minutes. And if Mandy were to hurry, we would be back to the palace in time for breakfast.

I didn't wait for the footmen to let me out. Instead, I jumped from the carriage the moment it came to a complete standstill, and almost instantly regretted it. The motion from my skirts had allowed a particularly cold blast to sneak under my dress, freezing my limbs to the core.

I turned back to the coachmen, my teeth chattering. "I shouldn't be longer than a few minutes." I told them.

They nodded and smiled as I strolled around the manor, and cut through the gardens to the back where the kitchens were.

I knocked on the back door, knowing that Mandy would be the only one up this early. As breakfast preparations were not normally made until early afternoon, most of the household took advantage of their sleeping mistresses and rose only a few hours before they did.

The door swung open, and there stood Mandy, a spoon ladle in her hand.

"Lady! Whatever do you think you're doing without a shawl? It's freezing!" she ushered me inside quickly.

"I didn't think to take one last night, it was too mild."

"Then warm up by the hearth now, go on," she turned back to her soup, "I'll pour you a bowl."

I sat on the low stool by the fireplace extending my hands towards the flames. I rubbed them together until at last I began to regain feeling in my fingertips. "Mandy, why are you making soup? You're supposed to be packed."

She took a long moment to answer. "Ella, I'm not quite sure if it's a good idea for me to come with you. Her ladyship will have my head when she finds I've left."

I looked up. "She can hardly do anything to you Mandy. She could only send people after you if she had hired you in the first place. But you came here as Father's cook; you were never really hers to begin with."

She sighed, and then walked over to me as she wiped her hands on her apron. She knelt in front of me. "Sweet, I just don't want to be a bother. The palace already has as much cooks and servants as it needs, whatever are they supposed to do with me?" She took my hands in hers.

I couldn't believe it. Why would she prefer to stay here rather than come with me?

"You're my godmother," I said angrily, "It's your duty to come. I need you."

She brushed a loose tendril of hair away from my face. "Lady, there is a time in every girl's life when she no longer needs her fairy godmother. Besides, you have your prince. He'll take care of you better than I ever could."

Did all fairies say this to their godchildren?

Perhaps she even said it to Mother.

"Today's not the day, Mandy," I told her, frowning, "You're supposed to stay with me. You're supposed to be there on my wedding day, and on the days that my children are born, and the day-"

"I know. I know, Lady," she interrupted, "it _is_ my duty to follow my godchildren wherever they go. But none of my godchildren have ever been royalty. It's dangerous to be a fairy at court. Much more so if the King finds out that you know what I am. He will have every reason to distrust you; he may even not allow the prince to marry you. One can never be too careful at court."

I paused.

She was right. A fairy found in the midst of anyone's household was a scandal, much less one found as a cook of the palace.

"I won't tell a soul, I promise," I said to her, "I'm begging you, Mandy, you're the only family I have." I pleaded.

She sighed once more, then thought for a moment.

"Alright," she said after a bit, "but I will only come on two conditions."

"Anything."

"One, you must never tell anyone what I am. Not even the prince. Two, if anybody ever finds out that I'm a fairy, you must pretend that you knew nothing of it. You must not interfere, and if it must be, you must let me go."

Could I agree to her terms?

Could I lie to everyone in the castle for the rest of my living days? Could I lie to Char?

It couldn't be that bad. It would be a tiny white lie. Nobody really needed to know her secret in the first place. And the chance that it would ever come up would be slim to none.

And if I didn't agree now, it would be goodbye forever.

Finally, I nodded.

"Good," she smiled, "Now let's find you something warm to put on."

We stood up just as Nancy walked into the kitchen, laughing.

"You won't believe what I just did, Mandy. I accidentally- well, purposely, but for our purposes accidentally- dropped all of the wash into stable muck. It'll be days before the laundress can remove the stains, and just as long until those pigs can leave rooms. Even to stuff their fac-" she stopped short when she saw me.

"Ella!" she exclaimed, "I thought you'd left last night."

I smiled. How she could be so cheery all the time, I wouldn't know.

"I did. I just snuck back to collect a few things I'd missed."

"Well you'd better hurry so they don't see you. They were talking of burning everything you'd left behind, and it won't be long until Lady Olive is up. Could I have some of that soup, Mandy?"

Before I knew it, Mandy and I had dashed up one of the back staircases, and were in her room.

"Quick," I told her, "Pack everything you need."

She didn't need to be told twice. She pulled out a small trunk and began to throw in her belongings as I opened her wardrobe. Towards the back was where she'd kept Mother's dresses.

"Which ones should I take, Mandy?" I panicked. I swore I could hear the creaking of floorboards from below, which meant that Olive was up.

"For heaven's sake, Lady, take all of them! I can't stand to see them burn!" she grabbed them and threw them into her trunk, along with the little clothing she would need.

I bit my lip. We had kept none of mother's shawls, and Mandy had just the one she would need. I could leave and borrow one from someone in the castle later, but I couldn't stand the thought of going out into the chill without one. I had a ragged one I'd left behind without much thought last night; it would have to do.

"I'll be back." I said hurriedly to Mandy.

I peeked out of her room. Mine was just down the hall, but the floorboards were creaky in the servant's quarters. If I wasn't careful, not only would I attract Olive's attention, but the rest of the household as well. Nancy may have liked to tease and prank her mistresses, but there were more than a few servants who were loyal to Mum Olga.

I made my way down the hall as quietly as I could. I made sure to not step on the floorboards directly in front of the laundress's room, as they were especially creaky.

When I finally reached my room, I eased open the door. I had taken almost everything last night; I didn't own much.

I threw open the doors to my wardrobe, and extracted the shawl from the bottom, and wrapped it around myself. Although thin, it provided warmth the dress could not in the chilly room.

I looked down. As I had pulled the shawl, a bundle of creased papers had fell out. I picked them up gingerly.

They were my unsent letters to Char, with seals that had never been broken. I had almost forgotten about these. I had written the last one not four days ago, explaining what I was about to do, and that I wouldn't write again, so that I might be able to forget him and move on. I had tied them with a length of string, and placed them in the back of the wardrobe, in hope that maybe one day, when I was long gone, Mum Olga and Hattie would find in themselves the mercy to deliver them to their rightful recipient.

I smiled as I traced the lines of ink in the shape of Char's name on the very front of one. I could give them to him now; he deserved that, at the very least.

I looked up with a start as I realized how much time I'd wasted. I tucked the bundle into the front of my dress; perhaps they would even help stop the continuous flow of chilly air that streamed down the neckline.

When I made it back, Mandy was ready to leave, with one exception. She was holding a suspiciously familiar bundle of green velvet.

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

"I had almost forgotten about this. Thank the heavens my eye caught it at the last minute." She shook out the bundle, and I gasped.

It was Mother's old cloak. It had creases in it from being folded up for a year, but other than that, little had changed from it. It was the same emerald green, and the brass chain that tied the neck together still shimmered as if newly polished, connecting the leaves made of the same metal attached to each side of the cloak. I faintly remembered Mother telling me the fairies had blessed the leaves, and I would rub my fingers on them. When it became too cold, she would wrap me in the heavy velvet until I began to sweat.

But how did Mandy keep it? It was first on the list of her belongings that Father had sold. It was precious. It had been sent to her as a wedding gift from Ayortha.

I stepped forward and stroked the fabric in a daze. "How did you manage to keep it?" I asked, "Father would have noticed in an instant."

She smiled sheepishly. "I waited to make sure that your father had placed it in the bundle for his bailiff to sell at the market. I took it then, for the bailiff wouldn't notice and your father had already received a large sum for it," she laughed, "Somewhere in Bast a lady was told that her cloak was lost during travel, or stolen by bandits."

"Oh," I breathed. I had thought this was long gone.

"You should have it, Lady, keep it as a reminder of where you came from. It'll fit you now."

I dropped my shawl unceremoniously on the ground. I put on the cloak and clasped the chain like I'd watched Mother do hundreds of times before.

It was warm, warmer than a hundred of those shawls. And it still smelt faintly of her. I twirled, laughing.

When I stopped, Mandy had a strange look on her face.

"What is it?"

"Lady, look at you." She placed her hands on my shoulders and spun me to face her mirror.

I stared in shock for a moment at the strange girl in the reflection. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. The daisy tucked behind her ear had flopped to cover the side of her face. I pushed it back.

There was something strange about me, something I couldn't place my finger in. I was taller than I'd ever been, and I held myself differently, somehow. Mother's necklace glittered and the cloak pooled at my feet in a sea of green. I realized with a start that I looked like her.

Behind me, Mandy looked close to tears. "You look beautiful, my sweet." She kissed the side of my face.

I smiled.

With my help, we lugged the trunk down the back staircases until we were in the kitchen once more.

Nancy was sitting in front of the fire, dipping chunks of warm bread into Mandy's carrot soup. She turned around when she heard us.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked, her mouth full. She scrambled to get up.

"Yes," I said, "The sooner we leave, the better."

"Oh, all right," she said, sounding dejected.

She stepped forward and hugged me. "I'll miss you greatly, Ella. The kitchens won't be the same without you. Go wreak havoc in the castle."

I grinned as she embraced Mandy in the same way she did me. "I don't know what I'll do without your cooking, Mandy."

I stared at her as a thought came to me.

Out of Mum Olga's entire household, Nancy was the only one I could stand. Liked, even. Although like her, many of the other servants had taken pity on me and had taken over some of my harsher tasks, Nancy was the only one who treated me as her equal.

I had already overstepped the King and Queen's hospitality by bringing Mandy, but I didn't know what would happen to Nancy if she stayed here alone. Before I stopped myself, the words slipped out.

"Nancy, would you like to come with us?"

She froze.

"Me?" she stuttered, "Surely I can't. I am employed here. I can't just leave without knowing if I can stay in the castle."

"Why not?" I argued, "If it was any other lady, or even a princess, she would have brought her entire household. They should consider themselves lucky I only bring two."

Mandy bit her lip. "It'll be a good advancement for you if you're willing to come, Nancy. The pay will be higher, and you'll have the chance to see your daughter more often."

After her husband had passed away, Nancy and her daughter, who was an infant at the time, had been left with nothing. In turn, she had pleaded her sister, who ran one of Frell's more popular inns, to take her in while she took up the situation at Dame Olga's. She didn't see her often, and the cherished the few days that she could. Coming with me would not only allow her to stay in close contact, but to save a little money for her daughter.

Mandy then turned to me. "But Ella, I feel as if it's stealing directly from Dame Olga's coffer."

I shrugged. I could hardly care less about stealing from Mum Olga's coffer. She had taken everything I had, and let her daughters feast on my remains while she hid things behind her simpering smile.

"Mum Olga was hardly oblivious to the fact that she was warm to me. If she is to stay, I fear she'll be in danger," I said.

Mandy thought for a moment. "You're right, Lady. Nancy, pack up everything you need, and be quick about it; don't wake up any of the other servants. We'll wait here."

Nancy's face lit up as a child's does when they are given a sweet. "Oh, _thank you_, I don't know-"

I grinned. "Go," I told her.

When she left, I looked at Mandy. "Did I do right?"

"You did right. Leaving her here would have killed her." Then she smiled in a way that said she knew I was referring to more than just taking Nancy.

We waited for Nancy in comfortable silence.

She emerged a few minutes later with a carpetbag much like mine, breathless.

"I thought I'd leave something for them to find," she gasped, holding a hastily scratched note, "I figured they would assume where Mandy went, but they would wonder about me."

I held out my hand for her to give me the note.

I scanned it, and then I laughed as I gave it to Mandy to look over.

_To her Ladyship Dame Olga,_

_I have left because I can't stand the smell of your daughter's feet, and because I feel that sometime soon, I would have sprinkled something much more dangerous than pasiflora on your meal. _

_I would like you to know that I will waste no time telling everyone how you abused your stepdaughter, a lady born of higher rank than you could ever hope to achieve. _

_Also, I threw your laundry into the stable muck. _

_Best Regards,_

_Nancy_

Mandy held her face in her hands. "I feel as if you have a wish for a death sentence." She muttered between her fingers.

"I only have a wish to infuriate them as much as possible," she said as she spun and placed the parchment on the table next to the hearth, "that simpleton Olive will find it sooner or later."

She went to put out the flames underneath the soup, but I stopped her.

"Let it burn," I told her, "Perhaps the smell will wake them before midday."

She grinned, and we took off in the direction of the carriage.

* * *

Alta pinched the bridge of her nose, "I feel ill," she muttered as she collapsed on her ornate chair

"Then perhaps you should stop meddling with mundane lives," Allegra piped, "We have problems of our own to deal with."

"I could hardly count which creatures are to be represented on the Council important when put next to this, Allegra."

"I _told_ you, to have fair judgment, all magical creatures must be represented! Even the ogres!"

"The last time we tried that, they _ate_ the elves, and it was only our sheer power that stopped us from becoming lunch! They're savages, and have no business being in this holy place!"

"They're misunderstood! If only-"

"Sisters!" Aleda cried, "I see something!"

The other two cut short as they swooped in to peer into Aleda's crystal.

It was a scene of a drawing room, and a grand one at that. A slowly dying fire cast long shadows on delicate furniture and a silver tea set with tea in the cups that had gone cold. Towards the side of the room, two figures could be seen. Both seemed to be very tall men, although one had the heavier set of a man that had aged, and one carried with him the grace of youth. As they watched, the latter held his face in his hands for a moment, and the former left. A few moments later, the young man left as well, leaving an empty room.

"That must have been the King and his son," Allegra said, "What were they talking about?"

Aleda shushed her. "Something else is happening."

As they watched, the set of drapes closest to the fire rustled, and a rather stout man stepped out. As he scratched his beard, he stepped out into the light, revealing a rather gruesome smile.

"Who is that?" Alta asked.

Aleda held up her hand for silence as the scene abruptly changed.

This time, it showed the same man from behind the drapes on horseback, traveling on a road. His red cape flew behind him as he leaned into the wind, grinning. Then Aleda's crystal went blank.

The three sisters straightened up.

"That was a spy, wasn't it?" Allegra said into the stunned silence.

"Puvian, from the cape and the crest on the chest." Alta seated herself on her ornate chair and stared out into the open space.

"Why was there a spy in the Kyrrian drawing room? And hiding behind the drapes, for that matter?"

"I don't think that's the important question. I think what really needs to be asked is how a Puvian spy got into Kyrria's palace, and what did he hear that he found so useful?"

"He was listening to a conversation between the King and his heir. What could he have heard that _wasn't_ useful?" Alta snapped, "Court secrets, military campaigns, anything that escaped from between their lips would have been of use to him."

"He wouldn't be risking his life by spying on them if he wanted the secret plans to military campaigns, he could have easily blended himself into the knights quarters."

Alta sighed. "Whatever it was, it puts Kyrria at risk. You know Frederick won't want to hear anything silly from his spies. If he is happy, then it means that it is information the King of Pu will be interested in. " She looked mournfully at the skies. They were an angry grey, rumbling with the threat of thunder that would never hit. It loomed over them like an omen, warning of dark days.

"Could this have anything to do with the Prince and his fairy girl?" Allegra asked, pulling out her crystal and rubbing it with her long sleeve.

"Perhaps," Alta answered, "The heavens are angry that we have allowed this to go on. This might be their revenge."

"What does breaking the Balance have to do with the Puvian spy? The Council has already made their decision, Alta. We shall not meddle with his case. We shall let it run its course. It was nobody's fault that it occurred, and therefore, it should go away on its own."

"Some things are meant to be tampered with, Allegra, no matter what decision the Council comes to! You know very well why is happened, and I'd thank you if you would allow me to fix it!" Alta exploded.

"No, I _don't _know why this occurred. It's not as if I can read your thoughts; would it kill you to explain yourself once in a while?"

"Fairy blood!"

"Excuse me?"

"What was it you said?" Aleda piped up.

"Fairy blood, fairy blood," Alta muttered, "I read through A History of Magical Creatures last night and-"

"_Read_ through it?" Allegra interrupted, "Alta, we practically wrote the book. What is in there that you don't know?"

Alta waved her hand to silence her sister. "I had missed one of the margin notes; I don't know why I didn't think of it before, it's so obvious."

"What is?"

"Fairies are not governed by the laws of the Balance. Their spirits exist outside of the realm of time and space. Haven't you noticed that they are periodically created out of smoke and dust, but they rarely pass on to the land of the dead?"

Her sisters stopped for a moment.

"Well if the Balance cannot control those of fairy blood, what does that have to do with the loom?" Aleda asked.

"Don't you see, sisters? The child has a single drop of fairy blood coursing through her veins. Although they say that a single drop can only affect the size of their feet, it also makes her, like all true blood fairies, incapable of being governed by the Balance. And because she was destined to fall in love with the young Prince, her loom, disregarding all laws of nature, attached itself to his. If he were also part-fairy, this would have meant nothing. However, he is human through and through, and according to the law, he cannot share a loom. But because of her, they became one."

"If she cannot be ruled by the Balance, why can't her loom detach itself?"

"The poor child is now situated in a limbo. She is neither governed by nature, which wouldn't allow her to become one loom with the Prince in the first place, nor can she break free, because she is one now with the boy. She can neither advance nor retreat."

"I don't understand why this hasn't happened before. Love is written in the destinies of many, even those with fairy blood."

Alta shook her head. "There are very few like her, only a handful left in the world. She is the only one that has ever been so emotionally attached to a human."

Aleda played with the sleeve of her gown. "What does this mean? If she exists outside this realm, why can her power not overpower his, and they can live in their own little bubble?"

"He is as much of a part of these heavens as you and I. He cannot just be canceled out. Rather, both sides have a half of him, and they are pulling. He will very slowly, and very gradually weaken until he withers away. This will surely kill him in the next year or two, and then the maiden's loom will become her own again."

Allegra gasped suddenly, holding her hands over her mouth. "This is the heaven's revenge? Is there no other way?"

"I do not know," Alta pounded her fist on her armrest angrily, "I've been searching and searching for answers, but I haven't stumbled on anything other than this."

Aleda stood up, and began to pace, her hands behind her back. "We have let innocent lives be wasted one too many times sisters. We shall not let this go, not when it's on the brink of a great love." Her sisters watched silently, not daring to speak. "If we are to find a way, we must do it now, and quickly, before the heavens unleash their wrath upon us."

At her words, the sky rumbled once more as if to respond, but no raindrops fell.

* * *

When we reached the palace, the church bells had only begun to strike seven. As we pulled up to the front steps, a squire dashed out to meet us. He didn't wait for the footmen to open the doors, but instead did it himself. As soon at the coachmen had whipped the horses into motion, he swept into a deep bow.

"My Lady," he said.

I curtsied in return.

"I have been instructed to take your servants down to the kitchens, where they will be acquainted with their duties."

I nodded, and was about to continue my way up the steps before he stopped me. "Not you, my Lady. The Queen wishes to see you in her sitting rooms."

I raised my eyebrows. "Certainly."

Of course they wouldn't want me in their kitchens. Mandy might like to make use of me in our manor, but in the midst of the area that prepared the meals of the entire royal court, I would just be in the way.

After I gave a quick hug to Mandy and Nancy, we parted ways and I entered the palace alone.

It wasn't hard to guess what the Queen wanted me for. She had most likely begun wedding preparations, and wanted me to take part in them. Although I liked her, I couldn't stand the thought of having to endure countless hours of colour schemes and flower arrangements. I could have asked her to make it a private and small, but that would be absurd. Royal weddings were large affairs, and announcements were normally sent out to the four corners of the kingdom, as well as neighbouring countries. Besides the sheer mass of guests that would attend both the ceremony and the ball that followed, the rest of Frell would celebrate in the streets.

I only wished that I could have put this off for just a few more days. I would have liked to enjoy a little bit of time to myself to celebrate my freedom.

I sighed, and then stopped abruptly as a new thought dawned on me.

I had no idea where the Queen's sitting rooms were.

What a dolt I was.

I should have asked the squire when I had the chance. He would have certainly been able to point me in the right direction.

Now what was I supposed to do?

I was already the maiden who ran from the balls, now I would be even more of a laughing stock. The lass who couldn't think to ask for directions.

Cursing myself, I rounded a corner, and promptly walked into someone.

I staggered, determined to not lose my footing. Apparently the curse had nothing to do with my lack of ability to walk in a straight line, and the orders that had been engraved into my mind from my finishing school mistresses had now vanished without a trace. I didn't think I would be able to tell the difference between a mutton fork and a trout fork any longer.

Shame.

"Sorry I-" I had meant to hastily apologize and continue on my way, (or lack there of) but something about the person made me stop.

I was standing before a very surprised looking maiden; one who seemed to be about my age. But that wasn't what made me stop. She looked strikingly familiar, with a tall, willowy frame and tawny curls that fell in shiny ringlets down her back. Her eyes, though they still bore the signs of sleep, were a bright blue, which popped against the backdrop of her dark face.

I realized with a start that this must be Char's sister, Cecilia.

"I-I am sorry, your Majesty, I didn't see where I was going." My knees bent in a curtsy. At least I still retained that ability.

"It's quite alright," she said, rubbing her eyes.

I was about to step around her, when suddenly she reached and took a hold of my arm.

"Hold on a moment," she said, peering at me, "You look familiar."

"We've never met before, your Majesty."

"No, but your specific features have been described to me so many times that I'd wager I could pick you out in the crowded streets of Frell," then she smiled, "You must be Ella." She had a bright, kindly voice, one that could turn heads just by the sound of it.

I nodded, before remembering my manners. "Yes, your Grace."

"Please, call me Cecilia."

I smiled. If I loved Char for not being stuffy, she seemed even less so. She wouldn't mind if I asked her where the Queen's sitting rooms were, would she?

"Would you mind telling me where the Queen's sitting rooms are? She has summoned me, and I'm a bit lost." I asked quietly, shuffling my feet.

Her smile widened, flashing the same pearly teeth Char had done so many times before. "Funnily enough, I'm headed there myself. Come. Walk with me."

Relieved, I fell into step beside her. For a bit, we walked in comfortable silence, with only the swish of our skirts as they dragged across the floor. Then she spoke.

"I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could have stood for another one of my brother's lovesick ballads listing your many virtues. To be honest, I didn't think one person could be capable of possessing so many, but maybe now he'll shut up and look at you all day instead."

Surprised, I laughed. I was beginning to like her, and she had barely spoken a handful of sentences to me. "Does he talk about me much?" I asked her.

"Oh, yes. He blabbers on whenever he has the chance. Finally, I told him last week that if he didn't tell Father that he was mad for you soon, I would tell him myself."

I froze. I wondered what his reaction was.

"He didn't like that?"

"He certainly did not. He glowered at me and told me to hush. Which I thought was rather odd, because before he left for Ayortha, any mention of you or your parents would have him red in the face and giggling like a lassie." She skipped a few steps forward, and then stopped, twirling around to face me.

I imagined this would be what calm, steady Char would be like if the proprieties of a crown prince hadn't been held over his head like a sword since the day of his birth.

When I reached her, she took my hands in hers. "I hope we can be great friends," she said seriously this time, "When my brother barged into my chambers in the middle of the night, explaining what you did, I knew you were a maiden I'd want to spend time with. You are very strong, and I can only wish that I could be have as brave as you are."

They must be very close if Char didn't have second thoughts about walking in to her private chambers in the dead of night.

I looked down, embarrassed. "Thank you."

We resumed our walk.

"Besides," Cecilia grinned wickedly, "I don't like the way one of my ladies has been looking at my brother. This'll put a damper in her mood just nicely."

I raised my eyebrows. I had always thought that princesses were meant to be the best of friends with their ladies.

"Don't you like your ladies?"

"They were assigned to me since birth by parents who hoped that their daughter would be Queen. None of them have any notion for humour, and all they care for are face paints and jewels. I don't have to like them; I only have to put up with them when necessary."

"Perhaps you should find yourself some new ladies. I've heard barmaids can hold quite the conversation, without touching on the topic of personal beauty even once."

She started, and then threw her head back in laughter. "If only Father would let me."

I smiled as she continued. "But I suppose you can have one, Father will have no say in the matter when the time comes for you to pick your own ladies-in-waiting. Then we'll have great fun." She hooked her arm through mine just as we entered a busier part of the palace.

Servants and passers by bowed in greeting as we passed, and I soon noticed that their soft mutterings were not 'your Highness' but 'your Highnesses'.

"Why are they addressing me so? I'm not royalty." I muttered.

"You might as well be. They are starting to realize you are Char's betrothed, rather than another noble guest. You're part of the family now, and you're the future Queen. If anything, their bows are pointed more towards you than I." She whispered back.

I tried to take Cecilia's lead when it came to greetings. Unlike Char, who gave the customary salute to anyone who passed, she gave a deep nod and a gracious smile to servants, and a frustratingly graceful curtsy to noblemen.

Thankfully, the noblemen were mainly the king's advisors and several straggling knights, who were few at this time of the morning.

Soon enough, we entered a section of the castle that was almost deserted.

Tall pillars of the darkest wood ran the length of the corridor, and were carved with designs of beasts and magical creatures alike. A soft, intricate rug was laid on the ground, muffling our footsteps to quiet whispers.

But the most magnificent detail of all was the windows. Set at regular intervals on either side of the hallway, they ran from floor to the edge of the ceiling vaults. Made of stained glass designed like the pillars that surrounded them, they led to wide balconies that would certainly have a view of most of Frell. They were each surrounded by large pots planted with the most exotic flowers from the Bramarrian chrysanthemum to the Ayorthian lily, famous for its scent. The amount of light let through was an amazement all to itself. It filled my eyes with roses and blues and yellows, much like the telescopic light contraceptions infants play with.

"This is called the Hall of Tales," Cecilia told me, "Char and I would sit here for hours on end as children, trying to make sense of the carvings. It leads to the royal quarters, where very few are permitted except on business. Of course you may come and go as you please, you'll soon be living there anyways."

I peered curiously at the carvings as we passed by. Each pillar seemed to tell a separate story, which began at the top and traveled in a clockwise manner around the column and downwards, until it came an end at the base facing inwards.

I would have much time to decipher them later.

Cecilia led me to a pair of heavy doors made of the same wood as the pillars, but without the elaborate carvings. Although still magnificent, they held nothing on their decorated counterparts. Sentries dressed in the same blue as the carpet, who let us through with deep bows, guarded them.

The layout in this section seemed to be rather circular. Walls were slightly rounded, and a large staircase twisted and forked off in more ways than I could count as it passed each floor.

"From the outside, this is the north tower," Cecilia explained a little breathlessly as we passed what seemed to be the hundredth landing.

"What's at the bottom?"

"Pardon me?"

"What's at the bottom of the tower? We entered by way of the third floor of the main castle, but there didn't seem to be a way down."

"Oh," she laughed, "The council chambers. One would think that the advisors had strategically placed them there for easy access to my father, but the two sections of the tower are not connected. They have to loop around the other side of the castle and take the same entrance we did, which normally discourages them and keeps us safe for the most part."

I suspected that no Kyrrian monarch could ever hope to get fat. By the time they have trekked from the dining hall to their chambers after a banquet, they would in all likelihood be hungry again.

"Here we are," Cecilia said finally as we reach the last landing, "My parents' chambers are at the very top. I think you'll find mine to be more easily accessible, which is fortunate because I want you spending quite a bit of time with me."

I nodded, breathing heavily. No amount of running up and down stairs waiting on Mum Olga and her spawn could have prepared me for that climb.

"On the brighter side of things," I said, leaning on a wall to catch my breath, "One does not need to worry about maintaining their personal fitness when living here."

She smiled. "You're quite funny, just like Char said." Then she straightened her gown. "Come, Ella. Let us endure a little longer. My mother's rooms are around the corner, and I promise you the seats are comfortable."

Almost reluctantly, I picked up my skirts and followed her.

The Queen greeted us warmly when we entered, kissing us both on the cheek. Her sitting room, opposite to what I imagined, was small and quaint, with just enough room for a handful of furniture arranged in a circle around a low table. But the bright windows made it cheerful, and the walls were covered in paintings and shelves upon shelves of books. Across the chamber was another door, which I guessed to lead into an anti-chamber, which would in turn lead to the King and Queen's bedchambers.

"Ella, I see you've met Cecilia. Excellent. We need not waste time on that. Sit, sit. You must be famished. I have tea and scones with jam." She gestured for us to sit.

At the thought, my stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday at Mum Olga's.

"Thank you, your Grace." I said quietly. I heaved a sigh of relief as I sat down into the soft cushions beside Cecilia.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Please, forget formalities. Call me Daria."

She was much less intimidating today, without her finery and crown. Instead, she looked hardly any different from any other gentlewoman, wearing a simple yellow dress and a broad smile.

She didn't wait for me to respond. Instead, she pulled out a long scroll and a quill.

"Girls, we have much to do. The King has already made it clear that he wants the wedding to take place by the middle of next month, and I am simply afraid that we won't manage to arrange it all. Formal announcements and invitations have to be sent out by next week at the very latest-"

"Mother!" Cecilia gasped, almost choking on her tea, "That's not enough time! How are we to order flowers, and come up with a menu for the kitchens? And Ella's dress! Her dress will need months to make."

"I am aware of that, my dear, but there was no fazing your father. He wants them to be married as soon as it is possible."

Cecilia held her hand over her mouth. "What are we to do?"

I sat in shock, with a scone halfway on its path to my mouth. I didn't expect to be married until as early as spring. In a month. Married in a month. All panic of invitations and dresses flew over my head. I couldn't care less what I wore when I married Char, only that I did.

Char would be my husband in a month.

It felt silly to be excited about something that I had previously shied away from, but I couldn't help myself.

I tried to hide my smile behind my scone.

"Oh, Ella," Daria was saying, "I'm so sorry to have to rush you. I know you would have wanted to enjoy a bit of free time to yourself after all you've been through." She sounded much more upset then I felt.

"Mother, I don't think she minds." Cecilia said sneakily, smiling through her cup of tea.

I blushed around my mouthful of scone.

"Not to worry," the queen said, smiling slightly, "We shall manage. I've already summoned the seamstress to get your measurements, Ella. She must begin sewing your wedding attire now so that preferably, it'll be done before you enter the church hall. Also, I've asked her to bring fabric samples for you to choose from to be made into everyday gowns. I don't want you borrowing clothing from anyone. It makes my ladies much too smug to know that they have something the future Queen needs."

"I don't think that's really necessary-"

"Nonsense," she waved her hand just as a knock came from the door, "In fact, here she is now."

The royal seamstress was revealed to be a stout woman with a hooked nose who went by the name of Mistress Freya.

She spoke quickly with agitated hand movements, and wasted no time in telling me to get rid of my outer things and the nasty bundle underneath my gown.

Slightly afraid of the many pincushions strapped to her arms, I did as she asked, laying everything on a nearby armchair, with the bundle of Char's letters hidden underneath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cecilia glance at them curiously, but she was polite enough to not say anything.

Mistress Freya had me stand on an ottoman as she took my measurements while Cecilia and the Queen began arrangements for the whole affair.

"Now, Ella dear, what do your servants specialize in? We must make the proper arrangements for them." Daria asked, scratching something down on her scroll as Mistress Freya pulled her measuring tape around my waist rather viciously.

I gasped. "Not to worry, not to worry," Mistress Freya muttered, "I only want to see how tight I can make your gown, yes?"

"Mandy is a cook, and Nancy was a serving maid in Dame Olga's household." I said, answering the Queen's question.

She nodded importantly, checking something off.

Mistress Freya waved two squares of fabric in front of my face. One was a silk in rusty pink, and the other was a deep blue velvet. I hastily pointed at the blue fabric, and she unleashed her measuring tape on me once more.

* * *

Mistress Freya kept me for most of the morning, occasionally pausing to allow me to choose a cloth. The Queen went over every detail that she could manage, stopping once or twice to call for a servant with instructions or to ask for my opinion on a matter. Much to my jealousy, Cecilia munched on scones, helpfully adding points here and there to her mother's notes. She made certain to look over and snicker at my obvious discomfort from Mistress Freya's hands every few minutes.

At one point, Queen Daria mentioned having to draw up the papers to have my title changed.

"My title?" I asked stupidly as Mistress Freya measured the width of my forehead. I couldn't even begin to fathom why a gown called for that particular measurement.

"Of course, your official name will have to be changed to Princess of Kyrria."

"Then we'll truly be sisters. We'll have the same title and everything!" Cecilia piped up excitedly.

I frowned. Although becoming a princess was an honour any maiden would have to lack brains to turn down, my own title would go into the name pool, ready to be given to the next noble born in Frell. Having Mother's title was one of the few things I had left of her, and I couldn't bear the thought of somebody else possessing it.

"Is it-Is it really necessary to have my title changed?"

Cecilia stopped chewing.

"Well, no, if you prefer not to, but why ever not?" Daria asked in confusion.

Even Mistress Freya gave me a strange look.

I looked down at my feet. Mistress Freya pulled my chin up at that moment to measure my neck.

"My title was my mother's, and it's really all I have left of her. I would prefer to keep it, if you don't mind." I said as a way of explanation.

"Well when you put it like that…" Cecilia muttered dejectedly.

The Queen put her hand on her chest, then stood and walked over to me, gathering me in her arms. Mistress Freya did not allow for that, and quickly shoed her away.

"You sweet child," she said as she seated herself once more, "It must be very difficult without her, yes." She picked up her scroll and quill.

She looked up after a moment. "Of course, you have to keep in mind that nothing will stop the kingdom, or the court for that matter, from calling you or referring to you as Princess. The only difference will be that under law, the title of Frell will remain under your name and go to no one else."

I nodded. "I understand." That was all I had been hoping for.

She smiled in response.

"That's good enough for me." Cecilia said, happy again.

When the clock struck midday, Mistress Freya finally declared her work done.

Queen Daria said that we were free to go if we wished, and I quickly gathered my things with the thought of going looking for Char in my mind.

Cecilia declared that she had had much too many scones to be able to move, and was intent on napping there until the time came for dinner.

Just as I was about to leave, the Queen said, "The councilors break for lunch at midday. If I am not to be mistaken, Char would normally be found in the kitchens, hiding from courtiers."

Much to their delight, I felt the blood rush to my face at a higher speed than I would have thought possible.

"Yes, of course," I said as I curtsied and swung the door open.

"I shall look for you later, Ella! Do not think that you can hide from me as my measly brother does!" Cecilia shouted from her perch.

They were still laughing as the door shut behind me.

Finally coming to the conclusion that the day was too cold to attempt to go outside again, I stopped by my guest quarters to part with my cloak, and to hide Char's letters underneath my pillow.

Although I had no more of an idea where the kitchens were now than where the Queen was this morning, when I made it to the main level, I found a stream of servants carrying silver plates piled high with food towards what I guessed to be the council chambers. I weaved my way around them going in the opposite direction, ducking the occasional swinging ladle.

I found that the kitchens were located in the south wing, and were bigger than I had ever imagined.

Of course, it was stupid of me to think that a kitchen that assembled the food of an entire castle would be anything but enormous. Hearths lined an entire back wall, where kitchen maids were frantically stirring the contents of the pots. There were tables and tables upon which ingredients were strewn, some were being chopped by servant boys, some nearly cooked, and some laid out in platters waiting to be whisked away. Servants ran to and about, some with purpose, some just as chickens whose heads had been freshly chopped.

It was hot, hotter than any other kitchen I'd been in before, but that was only to be assumed when dealing with multiple fires. Somebody had thrown open a window, and when I passed by it, the wind felt pleasant rather than like the sting of sharp knives.

I found Mandy with her shirtsleeves rolled up to her elbows, rapidly chopping hart meat, and tossing it into a skillet along with a red sauce.

"Lady!" she looked up at my approach, "Where have you been all day? We could have used the help. Come. Chop these." She gestured to a bowl of onions next to her. She resumed her attention back to the skillet.

I grinned.

"No," I said firmly.

She looked up, pursing her lips, then smirked when she saw my expression. "You can't do that every time I ask you to do something, Lady."

"Why, as a matter of a fact, I can."

A voice bubbled with laughter beside me. "Now, Mandy, the King won't want to hear you treating the Lady in this way."

I turned to see a woman built much like Mandy. Her cheeks were red and her sleek hair was pulled into a high knot above her head.

"Lydia the Cook," she said, stooping in a low curtsey, extending her arms in a dramatic flourish, "Pleasure to finally meet you, milady."

I smiled. "The pleasure is all mine." This must be the cook that fed Char and Angelina stories of my conquests.

Mandy waggled her butcher's knife in front of Lydia's face. "Ella is fine with being a cook's helper, isn't that right Ella?"

I decided I could push Mandy a bit further.

"Actually, I was looking for the Prince."

She glowered for a moment, and then sighed, chuckling. She waved her knife towards the back of the room. "He came by just a few minutes ago."

I thanked her and left. I wandered the kitchens, munching on this and that, until I found him in a corner sitting on a stool, chewing contently on a drumstick.

I sighed happily, then pulled up a stool and seated myself next to him.

"My dear Prince Charmont," I cooed in a ridiculous falsetto, "I shall be desolate if you don't remember our last meeting."

He jumped, and then brightened when he saw that it was only I.

"Dear heavens Ella," he said, laughing, "Don't do that. I thought you were that terror, Hattie." He threw his chicken bone into the hearth.

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps I had a new wig made and snatched the mink right from under your nose." I grinned wickedly.

"I think not. You are much too pretty to even begin to resemble her." He pulled me onto his lap, stretching his legs before him.

"I wouldn't do that," I said pointedly, "a poor maid might walk by any second and trip headlong into the fire."

"Of course," he grinned, tucking his legs, "Where would I be without you?" he kissed the top of my head.

"Indirectly responsible for the death of a poor lass."

I felt his smile against my cheek.

"Were the courtiers so tedious that you felt you had to hide here? I fear you're making a habit of this, Char."

"It's my daily ritual. More than once I considered tossing the papers about and running off in search of a maiden with two left feet."

"You would have found the maiden to be barely dressed and subject to the horrors of a seamstress."

He blushed and ducked his head.

"Less dressed than this gown?" he asked, his breath hot in my ear as he traced my bare shoulder with the back of his hand.

I shivered.

"Goodness Ella, does this gown even _have_ a back?" he exclaimed after a moment.

"It's there somewhere."

He chuckled.

In a way, he was right. The laces ended somewhere halfway up my back, leaving the sleeves to hang on to the bodice with only a sliver of fabric. Although it was made for winter, the cut was so that it couldn't be worn comfortably anytime past harvest.

He traced patterns on my bare back with his finger that left a hot trail in its wake, giving me goose bumps.

"I heard something very interesting in the council rooms this morning." Char whispered.

"What was it?"

"Apparently, there is to be a royal wedding in the next month."

"Is there?"

"Oh yes, announcements are already being sent out."

"I wonder who the happy couple is."

"So do I," he breathed, his lips ghosting over mine.

My eyes fluttered closed. He pressed butterfly kisses to the backs my eyelids before working his way down the side of my face.

"Have you any idea why your father insisted it be so soon? Your sister was beside herself when she heard." I gasped as he kissed the corner of my mouth.

He pulled back slightly, biting his lip.

He wasn't telling me something.

"Tell me, Char."

After a long moment, he spoke. "I'm sure you've heard of the dispute between Pu and Kyrria lately."

"Of course," I said, surprised. For ages everyone had stood still to hear what King Frederick's next threat would be. There was hardly a soul that had not heard of it, and hardly a tavern conversation occurred without any mention of it. "Were things as unsteady with Pu in Ayortha as they are here?"

I felt him stiffen. Then, ever so slowly, he shook his head.

"King Fredrick has no quarrel with King Oscaro." He tried to sound as even as possible, but he couldn't mask the nervous worry that shook his voice.

I frowned. "I thought he was hostile towards everyone."

"He is," he said.

I waited as patiently as I could, willing him to speak again.

He took a deep breath. "The land stretching from Bast to the western border once belonged to the Puvians."

"No," I said, shocked.

Char nodded solemnly. " I didn't believe it myself when Father first told me. In fact, the King's own grandmother was born just outside of the elves' forest."

"But that war was done and won years ago," I said, referring to the Puvian Revolt, where a large number of nationalists from Pu, including the royal family, believed that it was their divine right to rule from as east as the sun rises, to as west as the sun sets.

The only thing that allowed Kyrrians to prepare was that several villagers near the border had spotted the mobilization of the Puvian soldiers, and had run to the King with a warning. To this day, Frell sent large provisions of grain and barley every year as thanks.

"Why is he bringing it up again, so many years later?"

Char sighed. "The King claims that the small strip is his rightful motherland. He says that Kyrria had no right to claim it hers."

"Can't you sign a treaty that'll give the land back over then?"

"There are more than a few proud Kyrrians living in those lands. It would be a cruel thing to force my people to change nationalities just to save our necks."

"Besides, we've already tried," he said as clasped one of my hands in his, "but King Frederick is not one for compromise. He's already made it clear. He wants all of Kyrria, and he doesn't give a care whether it's by peace or by bloodshed."

Suddenly it dawned on me. If there was to be a war, as part of the military, Char would have to leave. King Jerrold wanted us to be married quickly, so that in the off chance that if he left and did not return, I wouldn't be left with entirely nothing.

The thought tore a whole through my chest.

"Then war is inevitable," I whispered.

"Not entirely. Father's still trying to negotiate as best as he can. War is the last thing he wants right now."

"War is the last thing anybody wants," I said, "excluding King Frederick."

He laughed lightly. "The man's merely a child in a playground throwing a bloodthirsty fit. It's not his first one. I'm sure he will calm down soon enough."

Somehow, the hope in his words didn't quite reach his voice.

I looked up at him. "It'll be alright." I told him.

He cupped my face in his hands. "Of course it will. I'll never let anyone hurt you, or even touch you for that matter. War will be far from our doorstep as long as I'm alive. I want you to forget about this now, and focus on happier things."

I smirked. Somehow I felt that his words were more to reassure himself then for my benefit. "You're very possessive of me," I said.

"I can't help it," he grinned, any trace of worry disappearing from his face in an instant, "Just this morning I almost slashed one of the courtiers with my sword because he mentioned that he wished his wife had as pretty a face as you."

"Char!" I laughed, burying my face in his neck.

"The only reason why he's still alive is because at that moment I became too absorbed in thinking about your face, which evidently distracted me from my previous intentions." He whispered, playing with the end of my braid.

He took the daisy out from my hair, which was now wilted, and tucked it into the front of my dress. As he did, his thumb brushed my collarbone, lingering too long to convince me it was accidental.

Then his hand continued it upwards path until he cupped the back of my neck.

With his other hand, he began to undo my braid, twisting the strands around his long fingers.

"What are you doing?" I asked in amusement as he shook out my hair around my shoulders. It had grown long enough throughout the year that it reached past the middle of my back.

"I like your hair loose. It's long and wild and-" he paused, pressing his face close to mine, "Much too desirable for a young man to be able to resist."

His eyes smoldered.

"Who said you had to resist?" I breathed.

His lips parted. "Social decency."

"Who's watching?"

"Nobody." Then he slowly lessened the distance between our lips until it was no more.

His lips slowly grazed mine once, twice, before my frustration got the best of me and I grabbed the collar of his doublet, deepening the kiss.

He made a surprised noise before responding and burying his hands in my hair.

His kisses were either the sweet touch of honey on my lips or a raging fire. There was nothing in between. But I didn't mind. Who needed average anyways?

One of his hands crept down to play with the ribbon holding my dress together, and I tugged on his hair, much to his delight.

"I feel as if this is becoming a repeating occurrence in the kitchens." He said to me when we parted, breathing heavily.

"They're certainly a magical place."

He smiled, tucking my head underneath his chin.

* * *

Except for the loud bustle of the kitchen around us, we passed the hour in comfortable silence, with Char occasionally telling me a story about Ayortha that I had not yet heard.

"The Princess has the most beautiful voice," he told me softly, "It gushes forth like an unbroken stream of gold. At their monthly sings, hers can be heard high above the rest, dancing with the melody in a such a way that most stand astonished that a sound like hers could belong to anything other than an angel."

"They can all sing so well. Dancing Mistress would most likely collapse if she heard them." I smiled.

"Yes, she especially. Although," he frowned, "There was a nasty rumour going around that she was part gnome, though I haven't any idea why anyone would want to hurt her so."

"Gnome? How can anyone accuse a princess of having gnome blood?" I didn't quite know how things worked in Ayortha, but I was sure most people would hesitate before saying something foul about royalty.

He laughed. "She was the Prince's wife, love. Her family ran an inn in Amonta. Also, she seemed to possess a particular talent that only gnomes had. She could project her voice to almost any particular spot in a room. She could make the fire roar and growl a song about beasts in the night, and make bells tinkle a cleaning song."

I raised my eyebrows. That sounded like an interesting talent to possess. I couldn't imagine how many tight situations it could have gotten her out of.

Spotting my interest, Char said, "I could take you to see her, one day."

My face split into a grin. "That would be lovely."

I wondered what a sing would really be like, but something nagged at the back my mind. The name Amonta sounded very familiar. I felt as if I'd heard it many times before today.

"Her family ran an inn in Amonta, you said?" I asked suspiciously.

His face lit up. "Yes, we even stopped there on our way home. Her sister, Areida, seemed to have gone to finishing school with you."

I clapped a hand over my forehead.

Of course. How could I have forgotten? Areida had told me many tales of her family. If I was correct, she had also likely told me about her sister, the Princess. How I missed her sweet smile and her kind heart.

"It must be a very nice inn, if it runs on the respect of the royal family."

"It is. And they were very kind. Perhaps you should invite Areida to the wedding. She stands up for you in a way that only a true friend would."

He was right.

If I invited her, I could explain everything and we could renew our friendship.

I smiled at the thought.

"Good idea," I told him.

"I'm full of them," he murmured, kissing me again.

When the clock struck one, Char made no motion to leave.

"Aren't you to be expected at the council chambers?"

"Probably. I'm sick of hearing about the state of the royal treasury."

"Char, your father will be furious," I laughed.

"I don't really care," he held me tight.

As much as I wanted him to stay, I knew it wasn't right for him to skip out on council meetings.

"You should go," I said to him, "I want to remain in the King's good books."

He sighed disappointedly, then stood up and stretched.

"One more kiss and then I'll go," he bargained.

I pulled him close and gave him one. I pulled back only when I realized he had no intention of doing so himself.

"Go," I said, shoving him gently towards the direction of the kitchen doors. "And try not to slay anyone."

"I'm not making any promises."

* * *

**A/N: I have a question for you all, and I would really appreciate it if you told me your honest opinion. How would you feel if the rating were to go up, and by how much would you allow it to go up? Tell me what you think!**


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